


The Case of the Puzzle of Sam Winchester

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Lucifer, Criminal Minds Type AU, FBI Agent!Lucifer, Fighting, Gun play, M/M, Oops, PTSD?, Sex, Taboo Relationships, There's a lot of oopsies, Top!Sam, breath play, cumming untouched, mentioned child death, serial killer!Sam, snark and sass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 13:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 21,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Lucifer Alighieri is a member of the elite Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. His Unit Chief assigns him to work on a complete profile of the infamous "The Love Strangular", or Sam Winchester. Over the course of the next several weeks, Lucifer works hard to solve the puzzle that is Sam Winchester. But is the only way to solve the puzzle is to fall in love with a serial killer?
Relationships: Lucifer/Sam Winchester
Comments: 46
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HERE IS MY SUBMISSION FOR THE SAMIFER BIG BANG 2019!!! I had a lot of fun writing this!!
> 
> Much thanks to my artist, @talkmagically, for the awesome art she did!!
> 
> Much thanks to my betas, @masterpieceofturkeycleverness and @trisscar368, for correcting grammar and plot holes. 
> 
> And much thanks to my cheerleaders, @mrsimoshen and @silvaxus.
> 
> UPDATE 2/11/2020: THERE IS NOW A TRANSLATION OF THIS INTO RUSSIAN!! Check it out here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/9048504/23145433

****

**PROLOGUE**

“Want to come back to my place?” Ashley purred, making sure that she showed a fair amount of cleavage. “For more… interesting activities?” 

Her date of the night - well, not really a “date,” he had ordered her a drink and they had been talking for several hours - murmured, “Sure. I hope you’re ready.” 

“Oh honey,” she said, slipping off the bar stool, flashing the man behind her as her short skirt slipped off the stool after her. “I’m always ready.” She let her eyes travel up and down his body with a smirk. 

“Good,” he said, offering her an arm. 

“Such a gentleman,” she cooed. “You might have to take your car.” 

“That’s fine,” the man said. Christ, he was tall. Not that there was a problem. They walked out of the bar and to Sam’s car, a silver Prius. “Mmm, a man who cares about the environment.” 

“And excellent gas mileage,” he said, opening the passenger door for her. 

She didn’t know that when he closed the door on her, she had just sealed her fate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer gets his next assignment

_ To the mind, God is a perfect criminal. He has done such a crime by creating this world that mind cannot trace how He did it. That is why the mind always freaks out about God.  _ ** _Prem Rawat_ **

Lucifer Alighieri sighed as he re-filled his coffee mug, watching the dark liquid slip into the dark blue FBI-issued vessel. 

“Hey, Alighieri,” Lilith Anderson said, ducking her head into the break room. “Milton wants to see you in his office.” 

Lucifer frowned at the thought of meeting his unit chief in his office. “Is it because of the Morgan case?” he asked. 

“No, you’re fine on that, as long as you turned in your paperwork.” She smiled, “Which you probably did already.” 

“Yeah, and IAB has already cleared me,” Lucifer said. He stirred some milk into his coffee and sipped it. “Do you know why?”

Lilith shook her head. “He just asked for you to come into his office,” she said. “Maybe he has a special assignment for you.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Lucifer said. “Thanks, Lil.” 

“Of course,” Lilith smiled and headed out. 

Lucifer waited a few beats before heading out of the breakroom and heading up to Michael Milton’s office. 

It still astounded Lucifer that not only was he was in the FBI and had been for five years, but that he was also now in the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit and had been for two years after working three years with the Crimes Against Children Unit. He loved his job. Sure, it was often filled with death and people who were on the wrong side of sanity. He’s been attacked, been held hostage at gunpoint, had done his Hail Mary’s. He’s killed people before. But he was also excited by the work they did, with serial murders and kidnappings and rapists and all sorts of other nasties in the world. Knowing that the people he helped capture would never hurt anyone again brought a certain sort of satisfaction. Even after two years, he still marveled at the work they did, and he highly doubted he would ever be disillusioned. 

Making his way through the bullpen and up to Michael’s office, he gave a firm knock. 

“Come in!” Michael called. 

Lucifer opened the door and closed it behind him. “Lil said you wanted to see me, Michael.” He gave a brief nod to Balthazar Roche. The two were often together, probably because they had been with the BAU the longest. 

“Yes,” Michael said. “Sit, Lucifer.”

Lucifer sat down in a chair and looked at the thick file folder in front of Michael. 

Michael gave a brief smile. “FBI in Wisconsin managed to capture Sam Winchester late last night.” 

“ _ The  _ Sam Winchester?” Lucifer said in shock. Sam Winchester had been on their radar for  _ months, _ if not years. He was a prolific serial killer whom the media had dubbed “The Love Strangler” (despite the BAU trying to remove the nickname from the media’s vernacular). “Where?” 

“Milwaukee. They’re extraditing him to Lee County and we want  _ you  _ to go and interview him.” 

“Me?” Lucifer asked in confusion. “Why me? Why not Gadreel or Lil? Or even you or Balthazar?” 

“None of us are Winchester’s type,” Balthazar said, his accent smooth. “You’re going to be our best bet.” 

“You’re young, handsome, and intelligent, although his last murder in Prairie du Chien was that of a young woman who wasn’t as intelligent,” Michael added. “And it’ll be good experience for you. We want him to talk. He’s confessed, probably just to avoid the death penalty, but we still want to learn about him. You’ve done exceptionally well in the field in the past two years.”

“Thank you, sir,” Lucifer said. The praise was well-earned and welcomed, as Michael rarely gave out praise to his team, even though they all knew he adored them. He held his hand out for the folder. “Is this my only assignment?” 

“Yes, we can consult with you in the field,” Michael said, passing the folder to Lucifer. “You start interviewing him tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucifer nodded, holding the file folder close. 

“If you need anything, ask Charlie,” Michael said.

“Good luck, kiddo,” Balthazar said. “You might need it.” 

Lucifer smiled and gave a shrug. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“Be careful,” Michael added. “You submitted your report from the last case, right?” 

“From the Morgan case? Yes,” Lucifer confirmed. “And IAB has cleared me.”

“Good. I’ll check in nightly.” Michael returned his head to his paperwork. Lucifer took that as his dismissal, but at the door, paused. 

“Sir? Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for this opportunity.” 

He could see the small smile on his superior’s face. “You’re welcome, Lucifer.”

Lucifer smiled and left the office. He had a file to read. 

Balthazar watched the door shut before looking at Michael worriedly. “I’m worried for the kid,” he admitted softly. 

“He’ll be fine,” Michael said. “He’s a sweet kid, Sam will open up to him. He likes his people vulnerable, remember?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Balthazar said. “Did Crowley sign off on this?” 

“He did,” Michael confirmed. 

Balthazar sighed. “I hope we didn’t make a mistake.” 

“We didn’t,” Michael said. “Lucifer’s got a strong head on his shoulders.” He arched a brow as he looked at the clock in his office. “Don’t you have somewhere to be with a certain Mr. Crowley?” 

“Hush,” Balthazar grumbled. “Just because I’m the reason for the moratorium on inter-FBI relationships doesn’t mean that I didn’t have  _ help  _ in that regard.” 

Michael gave a small smile. 

“But you’re right,” Balthazar said, standing up. “How’s Castiel?” 

“Doing good,” Michael said softly. “He’s joined the book club at school, probably so he has something to do when I’m not there.” 

Balthazar sighed. “I wish you and Naomi would’ve worked out, for his sake,” he said quietly. 

Michael nodded in agreement. “Have fun at your meeting.” 

“Bite me,” Balthazar chuckled as he left the office. He looked out into the bullpen and saw Lucifer hunched over the file folder Michael had given him, highlighting and making notes. He smiled and started walking over to where his employer would be waiting for him in his office. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer reviews his case file

Lucifer sighed as he unlocked his door and replied to a text from Gadreel, telling him that he won’t be at the morning meeting tomorrow because he’s on the Winchester case. Setting his briefcase down, he closed the door and re-armed his alarm. He undid the tie around his neck and started heading into the living room. 

He couldn’t believe that he was doing the Winchester case. Him, little Lucifer Alighieri, was doing the interviews for the most notorious serial killer in this era of United States history thus far.

As he went through the motions of winding down, his mind whirred with information about Sam Winchester, as well as questions he should ask. 

_ Raised by a single father, mother died as a child. One older brother. Estranged from family. Never married. Why the estrangement, especially with older brother? Daddy issues. _

_ Sixteen victims, eight men and eight women. Fourteen of them due to manual strangulation; two bodies have never been found. Has sex (consensual according to autopsies) with victims before the homicide.  _

_ Why strangulation? Sexual preference? Why such an even amount of bodies? Establish a more thorough victimology. _

_ Organized, methodical, tends to not leave a trace beyond DNA. Why no forensic countermeasures? _

_ Born May 2, 1982 in Lawrence, Kansas. Full ride to Stanford, pre-law. 3.85 GPA and 174 LSAT score. Dropped out after death of victim number 2, Tyson Brady, senior year at Stanford. Why? _

_ Won’t be prosecuted for deaths of Tyson Brady and Jessica Moore due to lack of evidence, including no bodies, linking Winchester to the crime, despite the confession.  _

He ate his dinner (chicken and gnocchi soup that he had made in the crockpot the night before) as he jotted down notes on a legal pad, consulting his file to double check his information, setting the mugshot of the killer aside continuously. He showered afterwards, debating on what to wear. He wanted to look as pleasing to Sam as possible - having gone on prisoner interviews with Michael, Balthazar, and Gadreel before, he knew it was important to remain true to oneself, but still look inviting to the killer. He decided on his favorite pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, and his favorite light brown leather jacket, especially with the temperature predicted to be in the high fifties the next day. 

He shaved to give himself a more youthful and open look, and went to bed. 

That night, his dreams were filled of strong jawlines, piercing eyes, and shaggy chestnut hair as he remembered them from the CCTV photos and the mugshot he had in the Winchester file.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer meets Sam Winchester

“ _ Hello, can I help you? _ ” 

“Special Agent Lucifer Alighieri, Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI,” Lucifer said, flashing his badge at the camera. “I’m here to talk to Samuel Winchester.” 

“ _ Copy that. Follow the officer around to the proper entrance. _ ” 

“Thank you,” Lucifer said. He rolled up his window and followed the grey polo’d female officer over to a parking spot near the main entrance. 

“Are you Agent Alighieri?” she asked as she approached the black government SUV.

“That’s me,” Lucifer said, getting his briefcase out and looking at her. “Aren’t you a bit young looking to be working at a facility such as this?” 

She laughed. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I get that,” she said, offering her hand. “I’ve been working in corrections for years. Officer Sterling.” 

Lucifer shook the offered hand. “What can you tell me about Winchester?” he asked as they walked towards the entrance. 

“He’s tall as fuck,” Sterling said. She pulled her badge out of her pocket and opened the door. Once they were both inside, she made sure it was locked. “This way. I’d say he’s taller than you, although not by much. Christ, you’re tall.” 

Lucifer laughed. “Thanks,” he said. “What else?” 

“I was here when they brought him in,” she said. “He’s… eerily normal. We all limit conversations with him, but he’s intelligent, well-read. Asked when he was able to use the kiosks we have for the law library.” 

Lucifer nodded, filing the information away. “What type of block is he on?” he inquired. 

“We placed him in one of our RHUs,” she explained. “Well, that’s the county term. SHUs.” 

“You put him in solitary?” Lucifer arched a brow as Sterling pressed a buzzer. 

“He’s a danger, Agent,” she said. “To inmates and to staff. He’s in a single cell and he’ll have the black box on when we take him out of his cell for his meetings with you. He gets an hour rec outside, weather pending, and he gets 20-minute sessions for phone calls and library.” 

The door opened and she made sure they both went through before she closed it behind her. “It’s for your protection,” she explained and pulled out her radio. “Can I get a metal detector check and a rover to come do a check at GO9, please?” she radioed in. 

“ _ Ten-four. On my way. _ ” 

“Ten-four.” She took off her utility belt. 

A short, lanky man appeared, beaming brightly. 

“Where’s Combat Carl?” Sterling asked as she walked through the metal detector.

“He’s over on Alpha, attempting to teach people their 1-2-4’s,” the other man said. “This the FBI?” 

“Ye-up,” Sterling said as Lucifer walked through the metal detector. He thanked God that he remembered to leave his guns in the car. “This is Agent Lucifer Alighieri with the BAU. Agent, that’s Officer Fitzgerald. We just call him Fitzy.” 

Lucifer nodded and allowed his briefcase to be searched before it was handed to him. He took it and waited for Fitzgerald to pull them through. 

“I thought you were supposed to go home at 7?” Fitzgerald asked Sterling. 

“I got mandated,” Sterling explained. “Mills is out with the flu still, and you know damn well Milligan’s shirking his shift again. You don’t want to work first, don’t fuckin’ sign up for first. Ya know?” 

Fitzgerald sighed. “Yeah. This is what, your third mandate this week?” 

“Well,” Sterling said, rolling her eyes hard enough that Lucifer thought they would roll snake eyes as they walked. “If people would stop refusing their fuckin’ mandates, I wouldn’t have an issue.” 

Lucifer smiled as he listened to them talk. 

“Who’s bringing Winchester in?” Fitzgerald asked as they arrived at a large door bearing the words LEGAL VISITATION. 

“I think we’ve got Lafitte and Murderson bringing him in,” Sterling said, opening the door and flicking on the lights. 

Lucifer observed the room with the two chairs bolted into the floor and a single desk. It would do. “Thank you,” he said. 

“Not a problem, Agent!” Fitzgerald said cheerfully.  _ Morning person _ , Lucifer thought absently, unable to relate. “It’s a part of our duty.” 

Distantly, he heard someone yell “HE TOOK THE MONEY AND SUCKED THE COCK FOR FREE.” He sighed. Some things never changed.

“It sure is,” Sterling agreed, continuing like she hadn’t even heard the yelling. She looked at Fitzgerald.  _ Relationship, couple of years. Living together. _ “You get off at 2 or 3?” 

“3,” Fitzgerald said. “You?” 

“2,” Sterling said. “Thai?” 

“Sure,” Fitzgerald smiled. “Thanks.” 

“Of course, Fitzy.” 

_ “Any available rover or superviser, check at GO9.” _

“Gonna get back to work,” Fitzgerald said, winking at Sterling. “Have fun.” 

“Bite me, Fitzy,” Sterling snarked before pulling out her radio as Fitzgerald left briefly. “Sterling to LT. Ketch. Send Winchester down. We’re ready for him.” 

_ “Ten-four, I’ll let Lafitte know. _ ” 

“Roger,” Sterling looked at Lucifer. “I’ve got to get back to work, you’ll be fine here alone, right?” 

Lucifer nodded. “I will be,” he agreed.  Sterling smiled and left the room, leaving Lucifer alone with his thoughts. 

It didn’t take long for Lafitte and Murderson - two large, burly men with impressive beards and hair - to bring in Sam Winchester. 

Lucifer wasn’t sure if Sam’s pictures did him justice. The serial killer before him was… well, handsome, for lack of a suitable word. He was tall as well, taller than the men who brought him in.

Sam was wearing the standard orange jumpsuit that was made popular in movies and TV shows. Lucifer had seen many a man - and woman - wear the jumpsuit, but so very few can pull off traffic-cone-and-inmate-orange. Sam, however, could. He was also pulling off the handcuffs, belly chain, black box, and leg irons. He almost looked sheepish in his bonds and the one whose shirt proclaimed him as Lafitte was shaking his head in amusement. 

“Behave, Winchester,” he chastised. 

Sam arched a brow as he was sat down and Lafitte chuckled. “You know exactly what I meant, Winchester,” he said. “He’s all yours, Agent Alighieri. If you need anything, Sterling and Fitzgerald are back outside already.”

“Thank you, Officer,” Lucifer replied. 

Lafitte smiled and then he and Murderson left. 

“You know,” Sam said. “I don’t believe that Officer Sterling is capable of harming a puppy.” He turned his head to watch Sterling and Fitzgerald through the narrow window. The two of them were close together, talking softly. “But I do think she can throw down when the occasion calls for it.” He turned his head back to Lucifer. “So, you’re FBI?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “I’m Special Agent Lucifer Alighieri of the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” 

“Fancy,” Sam said with a shrug. 

“I suppose,” Lucifer said. “It’s good work.” 

“So you study behavior?” Sam asked. 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. “Behavior can say a lot.” 

“Such as?” Sam asked. It was a test, and Lucifer knew Sam didn’t mean for it to be performed on him.

Lucifer jerked his head out to the two correctional officers outside. “Those two are together; you can tell by the way they talk to each other and how close they’re standing. They have similar ambitions; both of them want to still be in the correctional field. However, Sterling wants to become a sergeant and is doing what she can by volunteering half of the mandates she’s been complaining about. Fitzgerald wants to remain down at a CO level. The only reason Sterling hasn’t put more effort into becoming a sergeant is because she’s nervous that Fitzgerald will turn on her and their relationship will turn sour because then they will really have a difference in rank, and she’ll earn more than him. You can tell because her uniform is neater than Fitzgerald’s, and by the fact that she presses her shirts, while he doesn’t. She wants to look the best she can so that they’ll remember how well she wears the uniform when taking that into consideration. He’s fine with her earning more and being a higher rank than him, though. He wants her to advance however she wants and he’ll support her every step of the way. They’re kinky; you can tell by the slight indentations in their wrists from using cuffs - they’ve been using their personal cuffs, not their work cuffs. And they’ve been together for a few years. You can tell by the way they can have an entire conversation with their facial expressions rather than with words. He’s thinking about proposing to her soon, because he keeps looking down at her hand as if he’s imagining what her ring finger will look like with a different ring on it. She’ll say yes, and she knows he’s thinking about it.”

Sam made a ‘not bad’ face. “I guess you know your stuff,” he said. 

“I do,” Lucifer said. “And Sam, we’re not here to gossip about the COs. We’re here to talk about you.” 

“I guess,” Sam shrugged. 

“All right, so let’s talk,” Lucifer said. “Why do you sleep with your victims?” 

“Sex makes us oh, so vulnerable,” Sam said. “Sex makes us weak and needy and incomplete until the end. Besides, it’s fun. I want my victims to  _ enjoy _ their last few moments on Earth. Sex is the best way to do that.” 

Lucifer nodded, making a few notes. “And what about strangulation?” 

“Quick method,” Sam shrugged. “It’s simple, it gets the job done. They also can’t scream as much, or as loud.” His eyes darkened hungrily. “And, of course, the feeling of life leaving their bodies.”

“You like having control over life and death?” Lucifer asked. 

“Yes,” Sam shivered. “Love it.”

“Why?” Lucifer asked, without judgement. 

“Have you ever held someone’s throat in your hands?” Sam asked. “Felt their pulse and realize that one wrong move and you can end their life? It’s a power rush. And it’s not something you can really get with stabbing, or shooting, or anything. You can just  _ feel  _ their life leave their body and you are just…  _ You  _ are God.” 

Lucifer continued making notes. “Is that why you strangle your victims?” 

“You mean, besides the idea of having control over how and when they die?” Sam asked. “Yes. And the fear.” 

“The fear?” Lucifer repeated. 

Sam nodded, slowly smirking. “The fear in their eyes when they see me look at them without mercy. How I can alternate between cutting off the blood supply or their oxygen supply. Knowing that their hyoid is going to completely snap. Knowing that I cause their death.”

Lucifer nodded, unfazed. He’s heard worse. “Do you know when your fascination with strangulation began?” 

“Maybe,” Sam said evasively. “You’re not married,” he said, changing the topic. 

Lucifer arched a brow. “No, I’m not,” he agreed. “Why do you ask?” 

Sam shrugged. “Curious.” 

“Alright, well, let’s talk about your family, Sam,” Lucifer said. 

“Mom died when I was six months old,” Sam said. “Fire in my nursery. Dad didn’t talk about her much, only once to say she loved me very much.” 

“Did growing up without your mother affect you at all, in your opinion?” Lucifer asked.  Sam shifted as he considered the question, the chains moving with him and creating a clanging noise. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I mean-” he swallowed and looked like an abused puppy all of a sudden. “I don’t remember her or anything, so it’s not like it impacted me as much as it did Dad or Dean.” 

Lucifer nodded, making a note of that. 

“What were your parents thinking when they named you Lucifer?” Sam asked suddenly. 

Lucifer shrugged. “It means Light Bringer,” he said, “and it’s from the Bible. Beyond that, I’m not sure. Why do you ask?” 

“It’s just not a very common name is all,” Sam said. “Considering that it’s the name of the Devil.” 

“Very true, but it’s not like my parents named me Beelzebub or Mephistopheles,” Lucifer said idly. “Or just went for the jugular and said ‘his name is Satan’.”

Sam snorted and smiled. 

Before Lucifer could ask about why he started killing, Sam spoke up again. 

“The food here sucks,” he announced. 

“Prison food does tend to be of a standard lower than hospital and airplane food,” Lucifer agreed. “But at least it’s there. I’m sure that someone will put money on your books so you can make chee-chees and whips.”

Sam cocked his head to the side, looking remarkably like a confused puppy. “You use prison slang easily,” he said. “Were you once an inmate?” 

Lucifer shook his head. “I’ve never been on that side of the orange,” he said. “I worked as a CO before going FBI. County level, but I worked at the local jail for a year and a half.” 

Sam chuckled. 

“I will admit, I’ve never seen a black box be used before outside the classroom,” Lucifer admitted. 

Sam flashed a grin. “I can slip cuffs,” he confessed almost sheepishly. “The black box prevents me from doing that.” 

Lucifer shook his head and looked at Sam’s hands. He’s not sure how Sam could slip cuffs, but he could believe it to a degree. 

“Sterling cuffs me up well,” Sam said. “She’s really good at it.”

“Is she?” Lucifer asked conversationally.

Sam nodded. “I mean, they all are,” he said, “but, I don’t know, she just has a knack for it. She can slip cuffs too.” 

“Oh really?” Lucifer asked. 

Sam laughed. “Last Sunday, she and Murderson worked the block I’m on,” he said. “And they were bored, so they practiced restraining each other. She kept slipping the cuffs. Even when it was on the, like, second to last link.” 

Lucifer nodded, letting Sam continue his story. 

“Murderson threatened to get Fitzgerald’s permission to throw her over his knee and spank her,” Sam continued. He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind taking him up on that offer.” 

Lucifer considered the grizzled-looking man for a moment before shrugging as well. He could definitely see the allure. 

“Total Daddy vibes,” Sam said. 

Lucifer was thankful that he wasn’t drinking anything when Sam said that because he would’ve aspirated liquid directly into his lungs. Instead, he coughed violently. 

Sam grimaced. “I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “I didn’t think before I spoke.” 

“It’s okay,” Lucifer said, pounding his chest a little. “All good. I just wasn’t expecting that.” He took a drink of water.

Sterling poked her head in and smiled. “Time’s up,” she said. 

“Has it been an hour already?” Lucifer asked, wondering where the time went. 

“It has, Agent Alighieri,” she agreed. “Come on, Winchester, let’s get you back to your cell.” 

“If I must, Sterling,” Sam sighed playfully. 

“Don’t be giving me trouble,” Sterling said. “Or I’ll beat your ass and you know it.”  Sam chuckled and stood up. He looked at Lucifer. “We’ll talk tomorrow?” he asked Lucifer. 

Lucifer nodded. 

“Good. See you tomorrow, Agent,” Sam said. 

“Likewise, Sam,” Lucifer said, watching as Fitzgerald entered the room and helped Sterling escort him out of the room, leaving him alone. 

The walk out of the prison and the drive back to the hotel allowed Lucifer to think on his first conversation with Sam Winchester. So far, he could only come to one conclusion concerning him - he was different. He’s not sure how yet, but Sam’s different. A puzzle. 

Lucifer did enjoy a good puzzle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention that I have included some common prison slang because... well, I do work at a jail. 
> 
> RHU/SHU- Restricted Housing Unit/Segregated Housing Unit. Also known as solitary or "the hole" 
> 
> Black Box- This is a box that goes around the cuffs to prevent movement, slipping cuffs, etc. Used for highly aggressive inmates. 
> 
> Chee-Chee- This is ramen mixed with other things bought off of commissary, such as cheese puffs, pickles, etc. 
> 
> Whip- KoolAid, coffee, and water whipped together towards a thick, creamy type consistency. Can also substitute the Koolaid with tea.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer gets Sam to open up

Over the course of two weeks, Sam slowly opened up to Lucifer. It took Lucifer exchanging personal information - such as how he was one of the few men in the Crimes Against Children Unit prior to his assignment with the BAU; how he ended up as a member of the FBI after university and graduating with, of all things, an education degree - in order to do so, but Sam opened up to him. But Sam wouldn’t reveal anything about his first two murders, the murders of Jessica Moore and Tyson Brady. All of the other murders, Lucifer learned about in graphic detail, but those two remained a mystery. He’d try to steer the conversation in that direction, but Sam would evade the questions neatly.

Finally, Lucifer tried a different approach. “Look, even though you’ve confessed to those murders,” he said, “there’s not enough forensic data to connect you to them. Hell, we don’t have the bodies to prove they’re dead. Not yet, at least.” 

Sam nodded in agreement and sighed heavily. “Why are they so important to you?” he asked. 

“The first victim is almost always the most important,” Lucifer explained. “If we can figure out the ‘why’ for Jessica’s death, then we can more accurately analyze the rest of your behavior.” 

“Human behavior, by definition, is unpredictable,” Sam said with a wry smile. 

“That’s very true,” Lucifer laughed, “But our brains follow patterns, whether we realize it or not. And it could be something so small that your conscious mind may dismiss it, but your subconscious will obsess over it.” 

Sam sighed and nodded. “Jess was an accident,” he admitted. “Ty was in on it, ‘cause he’s-” he swallowed and Lucifer saw genuine pain on his face. “He’s the one who helped me dispose of her body.” He exhaled and shook her head. “I was scared I’d go to jail for murder,” he said. “I couldn’t have that. I wanted to go to law school, you know.” 

Lucifer nodded as he listened, making notes. “Was Tyson also an accident?” he asked softly. 

Sam shook his head, his hair flopping everywhere. “No, he… I had to kill him,” he said. 

“Why?” Lucifer asked simply. 

“He was going to tell the truth about Jess’s death, how I accidentally killed her and then covered it up to save my neck,” Sam explained. “He was having nightmares about what had happened and felt that if he confessed to his role in the cover up, the nightmares would stop.” He sighed heavily. “I took no joy in killing him.” 

“So why did you continue killing? You could’ve stopped,” Lucifer said gently. 

“Even if you don’t enjoy killing,” Sam said, “You develop a taste for it. I was curious to see  _ if  _ I could enjoy killing. So, I killed for pleasure once, and, well,” he gestured with his bound hands, spreading them open as wide as they could go, “I obviously found the answer to that question.” 

“So, in a way, you had three first victims,” Lucifer mused, partially to himself, “The accidental one, the one where you had to to save yourself, and the thrill.” 

Sam nodded, his hair falling into his face. Lucifer had the sudden urge to push his hair out of the way and out of his eyes, but he resisted. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “I mean, maybe violence runs in my family?” 

“Why do you say that?” Lucifer asked curiously. 

“I mean, Dad used to say that Mom had a temper. An Irish temper, he called it,” Sam started to elaborate. “After Mom died, I guess you could say that Dad wasn’t the same guy again. I don’t think that anyone is after the death of a significant other. Dad wasn’t violent towards me or Dean, but he did do a lot of time, was in and out of correctional facilities for drunk and disorderlies, assault, I think once it was assault with a deadly weapon - granted, that time I think it was justified, considering that the person on the receiving end had called Mom a whore… you know, things like that.” 

“And what about your brother?” Lucifer asked. 

“Dean? De’s not actually violent,” Sam mused thoughtfully. “I mean, not unless he has to be. He’s a firestarter, he loves the flames.” 

Lucifer nodded. 

“But violent? Arsonists aren’t really violent. If you piss Dean off enough, yeah, he’ll be violent, but he’s also a con man. You’re a shitty con man if you’re violent.” 

Lucifer nodded as he continued to make notes. “So, why do you think that you’re a serial killer?” 

Sam thought about that question for a moment before sighing. “I honestly don’t know. Beyond my love for it. I think that if I hadn’t been caught, I would’ve kept on killing.” 

“Well, think on it,” Lucifer suggested, sighing to himself in relief as their time was up and he watched Sam being escorted away. 

“Agent?” 

Lucifer turned to look at Sam, who was looking back at Lucifer. “I still know where the bodies are.” 

Lucifer sat back down. “Tell me.” 

Sam gave Lucifer two coordinates and Lucifer wrote them down. He would send these to Michael when he had his phone, laying in his car. 

Finally, he had something more substantial to report to Milton and he wouldn’t feel like a cockroach. 

And he had another mission: find Dean Winchester and get more information. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Lucifer talk

Lucifer was typing up a report for Michael when his phone rang. He grabbed it. “Alighieri.” 

“ _ Alighieri,”  _ Michael groaned. “ _ We found the bodies. They were exactly where Sam said they were. _ ” 

Lucifer sighed heavily, starting to take notes. “What’s their condition?” 

“ _ Jessica Moore was completely burned,” Michael replied. “We’re going to have to go through dental records to confirm her identity. As for Tyson Brady, his body’s decomposed but not too badly. I’d say he’s been in the ground a year. Definite signs of strangulation.” He sighed heavily. “We’re going to send the bodies to the LA coroners’ office and do the autopsies there and alert the families so that they can get some peace _ .” 

Lucifer nodded and continued to make notes. “Sounds good, sir.” 

“ _ This was good work, Lucifer _ ,” Michael said. “ _ You should be proud of yourself _ .” 

Lucifer sighed. “It’s taking a toll on me, Michael,” he said. “Something about him feels off. I get the vibe he isn’t being completely authentic with me.” 

“ _ You’re probably right _ ,” Michael agreed. “ _ But you’re gaining trust, hold onto that. He’ll show his true colors soon, once you’ve done something he doesn’t like _ .” 

Lucifer sighed. “Is it sad that I don’t want him to be authentic?” he asked quietly. 

“ _ No _ ,” Michael said. “ _ You want to protect yourself from potential harm. There’s nothing sad about that. You’ve always wanted that since you left Crimes Against Children. Not to mention, we profile serial killers and other serial criminals every day. We spend our time with blatantly authentic people who have no empathic connection to humanity. You wanting him to stay unauthentic is just you starting to get tired. You’ll be taking a short break after this case, and you’ll come back with fresh eyes.” _

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess.” 

“ _ It’s getting around that time, isn’t it? _ ” Michael asked gently. “ _ Remember, I was on that case too _ .” 

Lucifer nodded and sighed. “Fuck that case,” he murmured. “I remember it as vividly as yesterday.” 

“ _ I know _ ,” Michael soothed. “ _ You’ve got a couple days off coming up where you can mourn Jack _ .” 

“I’ve got an appointment in Lewisburg,” Lucifer reminded Michael. 

“ _ Just don’t forget to mourn _ ,” Michael said. “ _ You need it. And you know you can call me if you need to talk _ . ” 

“Yes, Milt,” Lucifer sighed. “Please let me know when the autopsies are done.” 

“ _ I will _ .” Michael hung up and Lucifer groaned as he returned to his report. He had a lot to do before Lewisburg. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer meets with and talks to Dean

Michael had been delighted at the idea of finding Dean Winchester, and with the help of Charlie’s technical genius, they found Dean serving time at Lewisburg Penitentiary. Lucifer had made an appointment to go see Dean on a day that he wasn’t interviewing Sam and made the drive up to Lewisburg, Pennsylvania. 

Dean Winchester was a conman and arsonist who earned himself a cell at Lewisburg by continuously setting fires at the various other prisons that he had been at. He was serving fifteen to thirty for his own crimes, none of which were particularly violent. 

Dean was also classically handsome, and it appeared that pulling off the color of traffic cones wasn’t limited to the youngest Winchester. Lucifer was certain that Dean’s eye color wasn’t found outside of trashy romance novels and teen girls’ fanfictions, but he was proven wrong as the sandy haired elder Winchester was escorted in and sat down. He had a simple belly chain on that they released him from when he arrived, but the cuffs and the leg shackles stayed on. 

“So you’re FBI,” Dean said, leaning back in his seat, “And you want to talk about my baby brother.” 

“Yes, I’m Special Agent Lucifer Alighieri with the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Lucifer said. 

“Why do you wanna know about Sammy?” Dean asked, surging forward. The chains rattled and a CO scowled and muttered something under his breath. “Bite me, Razor,” he snapped before looking at Lucifer intensely. “Is he okay?” 

“Sam is in federal custody near Quantico,” Lucifer replied calmly. “Your brother has confessed to sixteen murders.” 

Dean sat back in his seat, stunned. “Can’t be, you got the wrong guy,” he said slowly. “I just can’t… how?!” 

“I’m hoping you can help us with that,” Lucifer said. “He started at Stanford. Allegedly, his first one was an accident. He won’t say how, though.” 

Dean nodded and sighed. “He’s a good kid,” he said. “I pretty much raised Sammy. When Mom died, Dad… Dad fell apart. It was kinda up to me to take care of Sammy. Try to teach him right from wrong, take him to school, all of that. By the time I was sixteen, Dad was in jail again and I had a twelve-year-old to feed.” He shrugged. “I dropped out of school and… yeah. Became a criminal. I didn’t want to be, but hustling pool at the bars and being a whore paid the bills better than any traditional job a sixteen year old could get.” 

“What happened between you and Sam that caused your estrangement?” Lucifer asked. 

“Him going to Stanford, actually,” Dean admitted. “Wasn’t even my idea. Dad said he wasn’t family no more. Made me delete his number and everything. I tried to look him up every time Dad was in lockup but… as I made my way out of whorin’ and took up connin’ and started playing more with fire…” he shrugged. “It’s hard to look up people when you’re locked up.” 

Lucifer nodded, jotting down a few notes. Not being able to talk to Dean could’ve been a stressor for Sam. “Did he ever hurt any animals?” he asked. 

“Sammy?” Dean shook his head. “Nah. Thought that kid was gonna be a vet. He’d rather die than hurt an animal, especially dogs. People though?” he nodded. “Yeah, he’d hurt people.” 

“Sam was violent?” Lucifer asked. 

“He could be, he was a bully,” Dean said. “Sammy got picked on a lot as a kid, ‘cause he was such a little nerd. I guess he finally had enough. He bullied his own bully.” He exhaled. “Kid who was bullying him was going through a lot himself, and when Sammy managed to turn the entire school on him, kid committed suicide.”

“How old was Sam?” Lucifer asked. 

“Fifteen or so,” Dean replied. “And he’s got a temper. A real bad one. I’ve gotten my nose broken one too many times ‘cause of a good solid punch to the face. For a nerd, he can sure pack a punch.” 

Lucifer nodded as he wrote some more notes. 

“And he’s really manipulative,” Dean added. 

One of the guards nearby snorted. “Rich, coming from you, Winchester,” he said nasally. 

“Yeah, yeah, comin’ from a conman,” Dean said, waving a hand. “But, see, we’re different. I go for the head. How people will react and think about different proposals, and I go after wallets, not emotions. Sammy? Sammy don’t care. Sammy goes after the heart.” He leaned forward. “Has Sam asked you for something and then when you said no, he looked like a lost puppy and asked for it again?” 

Lucifer nodded. “He wanted a salad and I told him I couldn’t bring food in to him, that’s considered contraband.” 

“Were you able to resist?” Dean asked. 

“Barely,” Lucifer admitted. “He just looked so sad but I had to remain firm.” 

“Be careful,” Dean warned. “Please be careful. Sammy may look like a gentle giant, but if he’s willing to admit that he killed sixteen people, better believe him. Sammy’s a shitty liar.” He turned to look at the wall. “Where did I go wrong?” he asked softly. 

“You didn’t go wrong,” Lucifer soothed. “You were a kid, taking care of another kid. You shouldn’t have had to raise him. I’ll spare you the details about what he did.” 

“Thanks,” Dean sighed. “I just… I wish he had gone and became that fancy lawyer he wanted to be. Get married, have kids, own a house. You know, the apple pie life. He deserved that.” He shook his head and sighed. “He was never supposed to be on this side of the orange. Never.” 

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer said honestly. 

Dean moodily flicked his thumb like he was flicking a lighter. “He better not end up here, I’ll kick his ass,” he said. “Can you pass on a message for me?” he asked. 

“I can do that,” Lucifer replied, nodding. 

“Tell him-” Dean coughed slightly, tears in his eyes. “Tell him that angels are watching over him.” 

Lucifer nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll pass it along.” 

Dean sighed. “I wish you were here to tell me something else about Sammy,” he said. “That he was workin’ my case or something. Not that he’s a killer.” 

Lucifer nodded in agreement. “Do you think he’s capable of murder?” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah, yeah I think he is,” the older Winchester brother stated. “And even though I don’t want to believe it, I do.” 

“It was nice talking with you, Dean,” Lucifer said. He stood up and gathered his things. 

“Hey, Luce?” Dean asked just as Lucifer was about to walk out the door. Lucifer turned to look at the conman. “Please, be careful. I know that as a conman, lyin’s as easy as breathin’ but… I ain’t lyin’ about this. Sammy’s dangerous.” 

Lucifer nodded. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. And with that, he left, his mind heavy and his heart sinking as he made his way out of the facility and to his hotel. He would drive back to Quantico in the morning. 

Some things about Sam were lining up. Others, not so much. And so, the puzzle continues. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam reveals a darker side of him.

When Lucifer saw Sam next a week later, he gave the serial killer a smile, but it wasn’t returned. 

“I thought that you could be trusted,” Sam said once the door closed behind Fitzgerald and Sterling. 

“What did I do to have caused your mistrust?” Lucifer asked calmly. 

“You talked to Dean,” Sam said. “About me. Without my consent.” 

Lucifer sighed internally. It didn’t surprise him that Dean put in an inmate request slip to ask for correspondence with his brother, that it was accepted, and that Sam received a letter from his older brother. “In order for me to build an accurate profile,” he said, “I needed to know how your family perceives you. If you had been aware of me going to talk to your brother, you could’ve found out where he was, and corresponded with him, telling him to lie. That wouldn’t have made my profile very accurate, now would it?” 

“Dean could’ve lied anyways,” Sam said dismissively. “He’s a bald-faced liar.”

“He is a conman,” Lucifer agreed, “but in my line of work, you have to know when you’re being conned. And Dean’s emotions, reactions, and the way he talked was genuine.” 

“How can you be so sure?” Sam asked. “He’s very good.” 

Lucifer smiled sadly. “You can’t fake emotions.” 

“You can’t?” Sam sounded surprised. 

“Not true emotions, no,” Lucifer said. “Tell me, Sam. Do you know what ‘empathy’ is?”

“I’m familiar with the concept,” Sam replied. 

“But you’ve never felt it,” Lucifer guessed. 

Sam thought about it for a few moments, then shrugged. “If I have, it was when I was a child,” he said. “But I don’t think I’ve ever felt it.” 

“And yet, you feel remorse for Jessica’s and Tyson’s deaths,” Lucifer mentioned. 

“I don’t think ‘remorse’ is the right word,” Sam said thoughtfully. “‘Regret’, maybe, or even ‘sad’, but not remorse.” 

“Why not remorse?” Lucifer asked. 

“Because it doesn’t haunt me,” Sam said simply. “Remorse is when you’re haunted by what you’ve done, correct? It’s guilt?” 

“Are you saying that those deaths don’t haunt you?” Lucifer asked, taking notes. 

Sam shook his head. “I regret that they had happened,” he said. “But in the end, I’m a predator. They were weak prey. Natural selection weeded them out.” 

“Is that how you feel about all of your victims?” Lucifer asked. 

“Of course,” Sam said. “I’ve had many sexual partners in between each murder, and I didn’t kill all of them, now did I? They were either strong prey or predators themselves. And a predator rarely kills strong prey or their own kind.” 

“So you were helping weed weak prey, as you call them, out?” Lucifer inquired. 

“As one of the strongest predators,” Sam said, “It is what I have to do, it is a part of my nature. Those cops who arrested me?” He sneered. “Weak prey, the whole lot. I should’ve massacred them.” 

“So, you let them catch you,” Lucifer said. 

“Yes,” Sam snorted derisively. “A meth head whore should’ve been so low on their radar that the DNA testing should’ve taken years.” 

“Because you took a high risk victim with a high risk lifestyle,” Lucifer replied. 

“Exactly,” Sam said smugly. “Now, you… you are a predator, Lucifer.” 

“I am nothing like you,” Lucifer said, perhaps a little too hotly. 

“Yes, you are,” Sam said, smiling mirthlessly. “All of us have a killer inside of us. We just need the right trigger in order for it to be activated. Weak prey will never realize their potential as killers. Strong prey will only kill to protect. And predators ...” His eyes glittered maniacally. “Well, they tend to fall into two categories. Criminals such as myself, and LEO’s.” 

Lucifer nodded as he listened, still writing down what the serial killer was saying. “I disagree,” the FBI agent said. “I think LEO’s are strong prey.” 

“Please,” Sam scoffed. “That’s such a naive way of thinking, Lucifer. Come on. Have you ever killed someone in the name of duty?” 

“Once,” Lucifer admitted. “When I was fresh out of the FBI Academy, before I joined the BAU.” 

Sam nodded. “And what did you feel?” 

“I felt sick, I puked,” Lucifer said. “I was 25 years old, and so full of hope and wonder and wanting to prove myself as an agent. I was working in the Crimes Against Children Unit in Baltimore at the time. And there was this unsub… he made snuff films involving children. And when we cornered him, he had a child hostage with a collar bomb attached to him and he was pointing a gun at me.” 

“So it was killed or be killed,” Sam said. “Did you save the child?” 

Lucifer nodded. “Thank God we did, we saved him with a full minute left on the clock because I didn’t give him a chance to press the button to detonate the bomb. It still didn’t make me feel any better that I took another human life. I don’t care how bad a person you are. It’s hard to kill someone.” He took a breath and tried not to think about Jack, which was impossible when it came to him thinking about his time with the Crimes Against Children Unit

“It’s really not,” Sam said with a shrug. “You’re still a predator, Lucifer. You just hide it very well and all you need is to find just the right trigger.” 

For some reason, Lucifer felt very uneasy about that statement. He checked his watch and stood up. “Our time is up for the day, unfortunately,” he said. “Same time tomorrow?” 

“Think about it, Lucifer,” Sam said, shifting idly in his seat. It was definitely apparent now that the cuffs didn’t bother him. “A predator can recognize another predator.” 

Lucifer couldn’t wait for Murderson and Lafitte to take Sam away that day, and he bolted without stopping by to bid good day to Fitzgerald and Sterling. They’d understand, he thought. 

_ I wonder if he’s ever loved anyone. Could he love me? _


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting with the BAU

“Sorry I‘m late,” Lucifer apologized to his coworkers. “My session with Sam Winchester went a little longer than usual and then traffic was a nightmare.” 

“That’s fine, Alighieri,” Michael replied, his face impassive as usual. 

Lucifer sat down in his usual spot and gave a small smile as Gadreel patted his back. 

“Why don’t you present what you’ve found out so far?” Michael asked. 

Lucifer withdrew his notebook, half filled with his scribblings about the serial killer, finding a page with his more comprehensive notes. 

“Sam Winchester is a highly intelligent man,” he began. “He received an LSAT score of 174 and would have graduated with high honors from Stanford University with his bachelor’s in pre-law. His first victim, Jessica Moore, was his girlfriend at the time of her death and while he regrets her death and the death of the second victim, Tyson Brady, he feels no remorse for either of them. He also claims that her death was an accident.” 

“That’s a first,” Balthazar said. 

“Not necessarily,” Charlie said. “Some serial killers  _ do  _ start off with an accidental death they cause. It’s very rare, though.” 

Lucifer nodded in agreement with Charlie. “He is bisexual and when it comes to sexual partners does not seem to have a preference,” he continued. “He was primarily raised by his older brother, conman and arsonist Dean Winchester, who is currently doing time at Lewisburg Penitentiary. Dean started off his career as a criminal when he was a teen, primarily petty theft and prostitution in order for him to adequately care for Sam. There was an argument about Sam going to college between Sam and his father, which is what lead to the estrangement in the first place.” 

“There’s a stressor,” Michael noted. “That feeling of being abandoned by his father, and even though you’ve mentioned in your reports Sam doesn’t feel anything about his mother, he probably feels abandoned by her too.” 

“And jealous of Dean,” Gadreel said. “Dean got to know their mother a little bit. He’s got memories. Sam doesn’t.” 

“Do you know why he murdered Tyson Brady?” Michael asked. 

“Tyson had helped him cover up Jessica’s death,” Lucifer explained. “And about a year or so later, Tyson started to feel guilty about what they did and wanted to go to the police. Sam killed him to keep him quiet. You know, like a ‘three people can keep a secret if two are dead’ sort of thing. 

Michael nodded. “And then he started to kill for fun,” he said. 

“He said he started to wonder if he could enjoy killing,” Lucifer said. “Found out he did, and never looked back.” 

“What about motivation?” Balthazar asked. “Why does he kill besides for the release?” 

“Natural selection,” Lucifer said, feeling nauseated at the thoughts while also wondering if there was any truth to what Sam had said concerning predators and prey, and how exciting life would be if he owned the ‘predator’ identity. Today’s session was more discussions of prey and predators, with Lucifer continuing to insist that he’s not a predator. It was unsettling. “Predators weeding out the ‘weak’ prey.” 

“So he only kills those he perceives as weak,” Gadreel mused. “That can explain the sexual component. If he’s into BDSM, hearing ‘I can’t take it anymore’ or something similar and begging to stop might indicate some sort of weakness to it.” 

Lucifer shivered as he thought about how Sam sat way too comfortably in cuffs. “He also said that there’s only two types of predators,” he explained further. “Criminals and those who work in law enforcement.” 

“That could be a comment on the incompetent and shady shit that goes on with cops gunning down innocent people in the streets.” Charlie suggested. “Sam was considering a career in law, and this is a hot political issue filled with intricate law.” 

“He doesn’t appear to be the political type,” Lucifer said. “But it’s always possible, especially since lawyers all have their niches on political issues.” 

“He’s right,” Michael said. “Mine was school shootings and the lack of insight and understanding that the NRA has on gun control. Alighieri, did Sam ever tell you how Jessica died?”

Lucifer shook his head. “I’ve tried, but he won’t say.” 

“That’s the key to Sam Winchester,” Michael said. “Find out.” 

Lucifer nodded. “Yes, Sir. Of course.” 

“You’ve done good work so far,” Michael said. “Keep it up.” 

“Thank you, Sir,” Lucifer said, flushing lightly as the other members of the BAU told him the same thing. 

He wondered how he was going to get Sam to spill about Jessica’s death. Ever since his visit to Dean, Sam had been withholding a lot of information, despite him saying that he understood why Lucifer did what he did. It was as if Sam was mad at him, and the FBI agent knew that that didn’t bode well for him. 

He’ll deal with that if something happens; he wasn’t going to worry about Sam’s retribution now. No, now he was going to focus on how to get Sam to open up about his late girlfriend’s death. 

“Hey, Charlie, can you get me Jessica Moore’s autopsy report?” he asked. 

“Can Ronald Weasley beat McGonnagall’s giant chess game?” she asked. When she was met with mostly blank stares, she sighed heavily. “Of course.” 

“Thanks,” Lucifer said with a grin. “What’s up with new cases?” 

The meeting continued, but Lucifer was busy scheming as he talked amongst his colleagues. He was going to get Sam to confess to how Jessica died, one way or another. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer gets an unexpected surprised night visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: here is the art for this chapter (and in a way next chapter) that @talkmagically did!! It will be towards the middle of the chapter.

Lucifer woke up to the sound of glass breaking. 

_ Not another goddamn burglar, _ he thought as he carefully and quietly opened the top drawer of his nightstand to withdraw the Glock he kept on hand for personal use. He didn’t live in a dangerous area of Quantico, but it was towards the edge of the red light district, which was fraught with drug addicts and prostitutes who were afraid of not having enough money for their pimp; they’d break into someone’s house, steal things of value, and hawk it. Lucifer had already chased four out of his house this month, and while he did have a security system, it never really alerted him when he was sleeping. He’s still not sure why. It probably had something to do with the fact that he could sleep through almost every sound his phone makes, unless it’s the team calling. That could just be through formulated ringtones, however. 

He carefully checked to make sure that he had the gun loaded and gently slipped out of bed, clad in only a pair of thin, black, cotton boxers. 

There was another sound of something breaking and Lucifer inhaled, then exhaled. He slowly opened the door of his bedroom and began creeping down the hallway. The lights remained off but he still he kept his gun raised, doing a sweep of his bathroom on his way to the kitchen. 

The closer he got to the kitchen and living room, the more the hairs on the back of Lucifer’s head rose and every instinct told him to _ run. _ But he wasn’t going to run. He was a member of one of the most elite units of the FBI. He was on his way to becoming a Supervisory Special Agent. He wasn’t going to _ run. _

He started doing a careful sweep of his living room when he felt someone was behind him. A large hand covered his mouth and Lucifer immediately reacted, biting down on the flesh in front of him while aiming a foot into his assailant’s and would-be burglar’s knee. 

There was a familiar hiss and groan, but Lucifer didn’t think about that as he turned away, lowering his weapon to make himself smaller and therefore harder to catch. He then turned on the touch lamp he inherited from his mother and raised his weapon in the general direction of the assailant. “FBI, down on your knees!” he barked. 

“Oh, you just _ had _to do that, didn’t you, Lucifer?” Sam Winchester drawled as he carefully lowered himself to the ground. Somehow, this didn’t make him look less of a threat. 

Lucifer’s heart was racing. _ What the actual fucking fuck? _ “How did you find me?” 

“Really, Lucifer,” Sam asked with a smirk. “How many people do you think live in the Quantico area that have the name of _ Lucifer Alighieri _? It was simple to find you. All it took was a Whitepages.com search and I had your address, and your phone number. I did call and leave a message, saying I was going to pay you a visit, but you never replied.” He tsked, as if he was admonishing a child. “I don’t like being ignored.” 

“I was asleep. How did you escape?” Lucifer asked, ignoring the patronizing behavior. 

“Oh, well, that was easy,” Sam snorted. “They put a new guy down on my block, and he fell asleep. I’ve been shoving bits of a comb into my door. It reads closed on the control panel, and I’m sure that no one in control noticed. I didn’t kill anyone, before you ask. I redirected the cameras and then switched our uniforms.” 

Lucifer looked and indeed saw the grey shirt and black cargo pants that it seemed like every correctional officer in the nation wore. It was a little snug around the ankles, and a black baseball cap with the logo of the jail was enough to make him look more like the guard. 

“Threw that poor hapless officer in my cell and when I was relieved for break, I stole a truck and took off. Dropped it off at Burger King with a full tank of gas and made my way here. I highly doubt that anyone’s noticed my absence, though.” 

At that moment, Lucifer’s landline rang. Lucifer carefully reached for it, making sure that his gun stayed trained on Sam.

“You still have a landline?” Sam scoffed. 

“You still have an attitude problem?” Lucifer asked, answering the phone. His gun never wavered. “Lucifer Alighieri.” 

“_ Agent Alighieri, _ ” the warden of the prison Sam was at. “ _ We’ve received word that Sam Winchester has escaped.” _

“How?” Lucifer asked, as if the escaped serial killer wasn’t staring down the barrel of his gun.

“_ We’re still working that out,” _ the warden said. _ “I’m just letting you know that the bastard has about a seven hour headstart and that he may go after you. Be careful, Agent. _” 

“Will do, and rest assured, if the bastard shows up, I’ll shoot him,” Lucifer promised. “Maybe not to kill, but I’ll shoot him.” 

“_ That’d save the taxpayers a lot of money if you do kill him _ ,” the warden chuckled. “ _ If he shows up at your place, let me know. _” 

“Yes, sir,” Lucifer said. He replaced the phone and looked directly at Sam. Sam had a calm, serene expression on his face. 

“You didn’t tattle,” Sam said with a slightly surprised note. 

“Only because I want to know why you’re here,” Lucifer replied. 

“Well,” Sam smirked, “I wanted to pay a visit because I want something from you.” 

“What?” Lucifer asked. 

“You. In bed. Writhing underneath me, calling out my name.” The smirk on Sam’s face grew darker.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Lucifer fuck.

Lucifer blinked. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right,” he said, “But it sounds to me as if you’re proposing to fuck me.” 

“That’s exactly what I said, just not in so many words and not using those specific terms,” Sam chuckled lowly. 

Okay, Lucifer’s human; he’s wondered what it would be like to sleep with a serial killer. But it wasn’t like his  _ fantasy  _ or anything. He wasn’t a hybristophiliac. He knew better. He closed his eyes and thought of all of Sam’s victims. How they ended up in ditches and hotel rooms across America because Sam Winchester’s dick meant death to them. 

Then he remembered what Sam had told him.  _ You’re a predator, Lucifer. _

“Oh, come on,” Sam cooed. Actually  _ cooed  _ at Lucifer. “You want to. I can see how much you want to. Just give in, Lucifer. It’d be our dirty little secret. You can even tie me up, shoot my knee, and call the warden afterwards. I won’t say how good you gave it up for me or anything. Just a little thing between two men.” 

“I would have to remove myself from your case,” Lucifer said automatically. “I can’t jeopardize that research.” 

“You’d only have to remove yourself if you specifically report to your boss ‘hi, I got fucked by a serial killer with my consent’.” Sam gave a wry smile. “You know that while I enjoy sex, I’m not a sex offender by any stretch of the imagination.” 

“That doesn’t exactly ease my conscience,” Lucifer said, laughing hollowly. “Michael would assume that I ‘gave my consent’ so that I can live. He’d still remove me from your case. I can’t.” 

“Yes, you can, and you will,” Sam said. “You cannot deny what you want, Lucifer. And if you deny yourself something for too long, you’re going to snap. When was the last time you got fucked?” 

“I’d prefer not to answer that,” Lucifer said, his ears growing hot. 

“Mmm, so it’s been a while,” Sam said. “Aren’t you tired of just using your hands or a toy at night? Don’t you crave something real?” 

“How do you even know I swing that way?” Lucifer challenged. 

Sam laughed softly. “Oh, believe me, I know you’re gay,” he said. “You’re as gay as a three dollar bill. I’m good at judging sexualities, believe me. Think I don’t know about my brother’s side business of using his body to make sure we had food on the table and a roof over our heads? Dean catered to male and female clients. Even went to a few orgies. He made bank - you know how many older men would pay for a jailbait ass willing to please?” 

“All too many,” Lucifer said, feeling nauseated. That thought reminded him of how many cases he took on when he was in the Crimes Against Children unit that were exactly like Dean Winchester’s.

“I considered it, but decided not to,” Sam said. “Wanted that apple pie life that Dean was trying to make sure I got. Though, I never fit in. I’ve always been a freak, a monster.” There was a certain kind of sadness to Sam’s voice, one that made Lucifer frown in sympathy. 

_ I play with the head and the wallet. Sammy plays with the heart. _

Lucifer shook his head as Dean’s warning ran through his head. “Sam, no,” he said firmly. 

“Sam,  _ yes _ ,” Sam purred. “I may not coerce consent or anything, but I do make a damn good argument.” 

“You manipulate the situation,” Lucifer accused. 

“Perhaps,” Sam said without shame. “But if it gets me what I want, then, what’s a little manipulation? And right now, I want sweet FBI agent ass.” He went to shuffle closer on his knees.

“Come any closer, and I’ll put a bullet in your head,” Lucifer snapped.

“Touchy,” Sam pouted, but he did stop moving. “Lucifer, please. You need some sort of sexual release or you’re liable to jump a coworker, and that won’t look good. The FBI isn’t exactly keen on relationships within the FBI. Yes, I know about that. But don’t worry. If you get that tension out with me, you’ll be fine.” 

Lucifer gritted his teeth, keeping his gun steady. He wasn’t going to give in. Not at all. 

And yet, and  _ yet,  _ he heard himself say, “I want something in return.” 

“What is it?” Sam asked. 

“When you get back to prison,” Lucifer said, “I want you to tell me how Jessica Moore died.” 

“I assume you’ve read the autopsy report,” Sam said with a dry smile. 

“I want to hear how she died from you,” Lucifer said. 

Sam smirked. “I suppose that’s fair. So does that mean we’ve got a deal?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said.  _ Stupid, Lucifer, stupid! You’re going to lose your badge for this. _

“Then, I suppose you want to take your gun off me,” Sam said slowly. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing?” 

“No,” Lucifer said. “Too risky.” He set the gun aside. “I’m still shooting you with it.” 

“You can rough me up all you want while we’re in the bedroom, Lucifer,” Sam said. “We’ll make it look like it was a scuffle, and then act. You know, give ‘em the ol’ razzle dazzle.” 

Lucifer blinked. “Did you just quote  _ Chicago _ ?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Sam smirked. “Now, take me to your bedroom.” 

“Keep ordering me around, and I may punch you,” Lucifer snapped. “I’m not a pillow princess, Sam.” 

“Promise?” Sam asked with a laugh as he stood up to his full height. “On the punching, not the pillow princess. I kind of figured you weren’t that.” 

Lucifer gave Sam a shove. “Bedroom’s this way, though you probably knew that,” he said as he made his way down the hallway. 

“Do you care about this vase?” Sam asked innocently. Lucifer turned and saw Sam pointing at a dark purple vase. 

“Not really, why-” Sam shoved the vase violently, making it land on the floor and shatter before Lucifer could finish asking his question. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Lucifer asked. 

“Making it look like we had a fight. For forensics’ sake,” Sam said in an entirely too innocent voice. “That’s why I asked if you cared about it.” 

_ Like you would’ve cared if I said yes,  _ Lucifer thought to himself. He admitted that Sam had a point and continued leading the serial killer to his bedroom. 

_ I’m so going to lose my badge for this. I want this so badly and I don’t know why, despite knowing the consequences.  _

He flicked on his lights and noticed that the nightstand drawer was still open. Nodding in approval of that, he looked over at Sam. “Need anything?” 

“Your hole around my cock,” Sam said arrogantly. 

Lucifer pointed to the top drawer of his dresser. “Lube and condoms.” 

“Not interested in barebacking, Agent?” Sam teased darkly as he made his way over. 

“Not interested in leaving certain evidence behind,” Lucifer snarked back. “And I’m not interested in catching whatever  _ you  _ have hiding in your load.” 

“I’m clean,” Sam said. “I’m doing this in the name of forensics. I hate condoms. They never fit.” 

“Sorry, I buy all sizes, you’re going to find one that fits,” Lucifer said. “And the ‘never fit’ line is bullshit. I can put my entire leg into a normal sized Trojan. Perhaps  _ you  _ never learned how to put a condom on properly.” 

Sam blinked, then laughed. “You’re snarky,” he teased as he picked out a water based lube - Lucifer at least hoped he got rid of all the warming lubes - and a condom. 

“Make that two,” Lucifer said. 

Sam arched a brow. “They’re not going to be surprised if they see your jizz everywhere,” he said. 

“You won’t, because I use a condom because it’s  _ cleaner _ ,” Lucifer sniffed. “My apologies if I’m a neat freak and don’t want even the  _ knowledge  _ that my cum is all over the place in my own bedroom.” 

“You’re fun at parties,” Sam grumped as he pulled out a second condom. 

“I can just shoot you and call the warden,” Lucifer warned. 

“You wouldn’t get the answers you need then,” Sam said, tossing one of the condoms over to Lucifer. “And you need those answers, don’t you?” 

“There’s more than one way to skin a cat,” Lucifer replied, slipping his boxers off. 

Sam arched a brow as Lucifer’s hard cock bobbed into view. “Right, you don’t want to be fucked by me at all,” he drawled. 

“I could be aroused because I was having a wet dream about being the Bond girl to Sean Connery’s Bond,” Lucifer snapped. “Or because dicks have minds of their own.” 

Sam shrugged, smirking. “I prefer Daniel Craig,” he said as he began undressing. 

“You would,” Lucifer scoffed. He opened the foil packaging carefully and slowly slipped the condom over his length. 

When he looked up, Sam was naked and staring. Once he caught Lucifer’s eye he moved, pinning him to the wall, his fingers sure to leave bruises on Lucifer’s fair skin, before he hungrily kissed him. 

Lucifer kissed back, surrendering only marginally to his desires and to Sam. The serial killer tasted like mints and extremely bad instant coffee and Lucifer drank it in greedily, his hands finding purchase in Sam’s chestnut curls and yanking hard. 

“ _ I  _ call the shots,” Sam whispered harshly, biting hard at Lucifer’s lips. 

“I’ll give you your illusion of power, but only because I want those answers,” Lucifer growled. “I told you I wasn’t some fuckin’ bottom bitch. You want me to bottom, you better expect some resistance.” 

Sam chuckled darkly and nipped his way along Lucifer’s jaw. “Yeah?” He crooned. “You think you’re that tough?” 

“It’s not just that,” Lucifer laughed darkly. “It’s the fact that those who want me to bottom have to earn that right.” 

“Oh, it’s a right to have your ass? No wonder you can’t get laid,” Sam taunted. 

Lucifer shoved Sam back and onto his bed, the serial killer laughing in delight. With a snarl, the BAU agent pounced on top of him, pinning him to the bed and giving a harsh grind to the impressive cock beneath him. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for an uncut man, Samuel,” he growled. 

“Oh, you expected me to be like the rest of the male population in the US? Hell nah, not when my parents never saw the need for something like that,” Sam laughed. “I keep myself very clean, don’t you worry.” 

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Lucifer smirked. “I’m just surprised. That’s all.” He leaned in and nipped Sam’s nose, hard. 

Sam growled and Lucifer continued his hard grind against the serial killer. “Maybe this is all I allow you to have,” he taunted. “Just me rubbing off against you before I tie you up, gag you, and shoot you. Although not necessarily in that order.” 

Sam growled. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“Wouldn’t I?” Lucifer breathed. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s  _ my  _ house, it’s  _ my  _ ass, it’s  _ my  _ rules. See, what men like you don’t understand is that the bottom is in charge. We just let you  _ think  _ that you are. It’s to not harm your ego, you know. Some men just can’t  _ handle  _ not being in control.” 

Sam growled even more. “Lucifer,” he warned. 

“What?” Lucifer asked, not bothering to disguise his amusement. Nor did he try to sound innocent. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t innocent in this affair. If Sam wanted a meek and mild FBI agent to bed, he was going after the wrong Fibbie. 

Then he remembered that this was probably saving his life, and he felt better about being a dick. “I’m just stating the truth,” he continued. “Some mens’ egos are just so fragile, that the idea of them not being in control is terrifying. That’s what rape is, ya know? It’s about power and control and yet, I can’t think of a less controlled act. Can you?” 

Sam’s chest was rumbling and Lucifer smirked. “Think you can play with the big boys, Sam?” he asked. “Or are you too scared to come after a man without a ligature and perhaps a knife?” 

With a warrior like cry, Sam moved and Lucifer found himself on his back. He laughed and then gasped as Sam began gnawing on his shoulder like it was a steak. He knew he would be walking into work as a literal bruise tomorrow, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when everything felt good (although he tried to forget about that) and when it would provide him with answers. 

“Don’t you know you’re a sheep,” Sam growled lowly, “playing with a wolf?” 

“Funny, I seem to remember a certain wolf saying I was like him,” Lucifer taunted, shoving at Sam’s shoulders and smirking as his wrists were pinned against the bed, in the same position that he had Sam in only moments before. “Are you rescinding that statement, Sam? Do you want me to be your prey, or your predator?” 

Sam’s eyes smiled. He didn’t. “Touché, my little agent, touché,” he said. 

“I’m not little, not by  _ any  _ stretch of the imagination,” Lucifer snarked. 

“Perhaps,” Sam smiled without any humor. “But compared to me, you are. Do you need prep?” 

“Do you want me to be prepped?” Lucifer challenged. “Or do you just want to take?” 

Sam smiled wolfishly. It was the first true smile Lucifer believed he’s ever seen on the serial killer. “Take,” he purred deeply. 

“Then  _ take, _ ” dared the FBI Agent. 

Sam physically manhandled Lucifer so that he was on his stomach, ass high up in the air. Lube was drizzled over his ass, and Lucifer yelped feeling the cold, viscous liquid hit his hole. 

“Warn a guy, you fuckin’ bastard!” 

“I’m not sorry,” Sam chuckled darkly. 

“Do you even know how to be sorry?” Lucifer snapped. 

“Can’t say that I do,” Sam said. “I don’t need to apologize.” 

Lucifer felt the blunt head of Sam’s cock gently press against his hole, before it was thrust into him. 

He howled, clawing at the bedsheets and bucking violently backwards. 

“Easy there,” Sam laughed without warmth. He ran what Lucifer assumed was supposed to be a soothing hand down his back. He then pulled back and  _ rammed  _ himself back into Lucifer. 

Lucifer couldn’t help but scream. 

It had been far too long since he’d had sex, and Sam’s rough intrusion and pace spoke volumes of how sore he was going to be for the next few days as a result of this. Still, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome, and he pushed back against the killer. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” he dared.

“Didn’t realize that you were  _ that  _ much of a slut, Lucifer,” Sam purred, stopping.

“I just enjoy what I’m given,” Lucifer snarked. “Unless that’s  _ all  _ you’ve got. Then maybe  _ you  _ should be the one with a cock in your ass. So, come on.” He clenched hard around Sam’s dick, making him groan. “Or are you  _ that  _ incompetent of a lover?” 

“Do you ever think before you speak?” Sam asked with a smirk. 

“Oh, always,” Lucifer replied. 

“Then I shall do what you ask,” Sam said. He wrapped a calloused hand around Lucifer’s throat and snapped his hips hard. 

Lucifer then got the fucking of his life. Sam’s hips were merciless, his pace unforgiving, his hand unmoving. Lucifer didn’t dare cry out in pain or in pleasure, but everything tensed and he curled into the sex with a madman. 

He could tell that Sam was enjoying himself, and as he got used to it, he began pushing back into the thrusts - until the hand around his throat tightened. Not enough to cut off his breath, but enough. 

“Easy there, angel,” Sam murmured darkly. “Don’t be so eager to finish with me. We both know that you like this. Don’t you?” 

Yes, Lucifer  _ did  _ enjoy the sex he was currently having with Sam, saints forgive him. But he  _ did  _ need to hurry things along. Somehow. “We’ve still got a lot to do, and not a whole lot of time in which to do it,” he hissed. “Get a move on.” 

“Someone’s asking for no orgasm,” Sam mused. 

Lucifer managed to turn his head to give Sam a wolfish, devilish grin. “Oh,” he growled, “don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

Sam laughed and slapped Lucifer’s ass hard, making him whimper and turn his head forward. He then tightened his hold on the FBI agent’s throat. 

Lucifer couldn’t breathe, and he revelled in it. There was something very freeing about being choked with one’s ass being full of cock. 

Then, just as suddenly as they had started, they stopped. Sam released Lucifer’s throat and he felt him withdraw. Lucifer grumbled but got up and got to work; edging themselves like this would make the fight look more like a fight and less like two kittens pouncing on each other.

Lucifer disposed of his condom in the trashcan by his bed and put on his boxers. Meanwhile, Sam went into the bathroom and flushed his condom down the toilet. Lucifer winced and said a silent prayer for the sympathy of his plumbing. He threw the bedcovers into even more disarray and went to his closet. Finding the handcuffs he bought from back when he was a county correctional officer, he grabbed them. He then turned and felt his head snap back from the stunning punch Sam delivered to his eye. He shoved back at the killer, noting that he had quickly gotten dressed as well. 

The two of them fought, adrenaline in their veins from the denied release and the sex. They bit, clawed, and fought, not caring about the bruises and bitemarks that they would leave on each other. The bloodier they were, the better. 

Finally, Lucifer lunged for his gun and fell on his back from Sam tripping him. Sam toppled on him and Lucifer pressed the gun into the killer’s right shoulder before pulling the trigger. Just as he did so, he felt a warm stickiness coat his thighs and balls and he flushed. 

He fucking came from  _ shooting a serial killer _ . 

The sound wasn’t  _ quite  _ as muffled as he’d like and Sam groaned. Lucifer prayed that Sam didn’t feel the heat from his groin and he rolled them over so he was straddling Sam’s hips. 

The serial killer looked up at the BAU agent and smirked. Lucifer focused on the red poppy area of the bullet wound he had inflicted. “Damn, Luci,” Sam purred. “You sure know how to shoot off.” 

“Shut up,” Lucifer snapped, grabbing Sam’s wrists and cuffing him roughly. If he slammed the black Peerless handcuffs around Sam’s wrists, well, that wasn’t any of his business. “Samuel Winchester, you’re under arrest for flight, assault of a law enforcement officer, assault of a federal agent, and breaking and entering. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…” 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Michael talk

SSA Michael Milton, Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, made his way over to where Lucifer Alighieri was, huddled on the back of an ambulance. He could tell that his subordinate was minimally dressed from the way he was bundled up in the blankets that he was wrapped in. Sam Winchester probably broke in while Lucifer was sleeping, so Michael could guess that he was only in some sort of boxers or briefs. The fair skin of his subordinate did not hide the brilliant black eye or the cut lip. Knowing how Lucifer fights, Michael knew that there would be more bruises hidden underneath the blankets. 

Lucifer smiled as Michael approached. “Castiel must be at Naomi’s, or Balthazar would be here,” he said. 

Michael chuckled and nodded. “He’ll be at my place tomorrow,” he said. “Sam Winchester is currently at the hospital in surgery from that bullet wound you gave him. Once he’s cleared, he will be sent back to the same prison and be considered a high risk inmate and an escape risk.” He paused, gauging Lucifer’s reaction. 

Lucifer only nodded and tugged the blankets tighter onto his body. Lucifer must be really cold, and Michael knew how much Lucifer hated being cold. 

“I’m considering pulling you off of the custodial,” Michael said. 

Lucifer jerked his head up. “And lose the progress that we’ve made on this profile?” he asked incredulously. “Milt, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got a rapport with him and may I remind you, I was chosen because you knew he would open up to me. He probably wouldn’t even open up to Lillith, and she would also be his type.” He looked up at Michael, and Michael was once again struck with how young Lucifer was. “I can do this,” he said confidently. 

Michael gave a small smile. “All right, I won’t pull you off,” he said. “Under a few conditions. One, Crowley wants a report once you’re cleared. Two, you will stay at a hotel or one of the team’s houses for a few days. For your safety, and to ease the Bureau’s mind.” He looked over Lucifer’s face. “And you will not interrogate him at the hospital. You’ll be with the team then.” 

Lucifer nodded in agreement. “Can I stay at yours, then?” he asked. “It’s the closest to here, and I know that I can help out with Castiel.” 

Michael nodded and smiled. He should’ve known. Lucifer loved children and treated Castiel like his own. It was a gift whenever the team had to deal with children. “Of course, he would love to have you. He’s been practicing his Italian.” He paused again. “What did he want?” he asked softly. 

Lucifer stared off into the distance. “He wanted to make sure that I was a predator and not prey,” he said quietly. 

Those words chilled Michael to the bone. “I hope you proved that you’re a predator,” he said quietly. 

“I think my shooting him in the shoulder proved that,” Lucifer said dryly. 

Michael gave a soft laugh. “Will he tell you about Jessica?” he asked softly. 

Lucifer looked up at Michael with pain in his eyes. “I have to talk about Jack,” he said quietly. 

Michael sighed heavily. Jack Kline, the case that sent Lucifer scrambling from the Crimes Against Children Unit and into the BAU. The case that tore Lucifer’s heart apart. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t think you do. That’s up to you, Lucifer. It always has been.” 

“I don’t think I have a choice this time,” Lucifer replied slowly. “Not if I want the truth. I think this is something that I have to do.” 

Michael gave another heavy sigh. “We’ll be here for you,” he said simply.

Lucifer nodded. “Thank you. Mind if I go change?” he said. “I’m just in my boxers, and I want to pack a few changes of clothes.” 

Michael nodded once he looked over at the EMT. The EMT nodded, indicating that Lucifer was in the clear. “Go on,” he said gently. “I’ll be waiting.” 

“Thank you,” Lucifer said. He stood up and shuffled back towards the apartment complex. 

_ What did I do?  _ Michael wondered as he watched Lucifer walk away.  _ Will I still have him at the end of this?  _


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Sam exchange their promised stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentioned child death here.

It was a week before Sam was back at the prison, having caught new charges due to what happened at Lucifer’s. Lucifer didn’t care, though. He was back with his team, and ended up on a case that they had to pair up with the Crimes Against Children Unit, which meant that he ran point. Children were his area of expertise. 

The case was a brutal one and entirely too reminiscent of Jack Kline’s case. Jack’s case involved kidnapping and child trafficking. This one was more local, with kidnapping and then being used in a pedophile ring. This also had a happier outcome, thanks to the tireless and thankless work of the CACU, Charlie’s hacking skills, Gadreel and Lillith’s general knowledge of the Baltimore area, and Lucifer’s knack of dealing with children. Two hundred and fifty children went home to their families and into counseling. Lucifer stayed in Baltimore until every child was reunited with their families, celebrating a win with his old team. 

If he came home - to his actual home, not Michael’s - and cried once again over a boy that he had lost, well, that was Lucifer’s business. 

The team checked in on him afterwards, which he appreciated, but the knowledge of having to bare a part of his soul to Sam… it wasn’t enough. It was a promise to Sam, one he made under questionable circumstances, and his own white lie for when they ask “How did you get him to confess?” Instead of saying “Oh, I let him fuck me in the ass”, he could say “I bared my soul and survived” and have it be marginally true. 

And the following Monday, with a heavy heart, he was driving to the prison once more to talk again with a killer. 

A killer who broke into his home, had sex with him, and bargained for his story. 

He firmly shoved the memory of cumming when he shot Sam to the back of his mind and rationalized it. He told himself that it was due to the heat and friction and the thrill of the fight afterwards, as well as not having come during the sex. That he came didn’t mean that he enjoyed it. 

“Welcome back, Agent,” Sterling greeted him brightly. Brighter than usual. Sterling was a third shifter, and when he was there, she had been mandated to work first and her first shift personality tended to be “I hate my life”. 

“You’re awfully chipper,” Lucifer said. “Especially considering what happened.” 

“Well, I’m just chipper that you’re here,” she teased as they walked. “But actually-” she held out her left hand to show off a claddagh ring, with the heart facing in. There was also a simple band that said “YOURS”. 

“Congratulations!” Lucifer said with a smile. He had known it would happen soon, from the way Fitzgerald kept his hand over his pocket. 

“Thank you,” Sterling said as she walked with him to the interview room. “So, a few slight changes in protocol. Two of us will be in the room with you, probably me and Fitzgerald. We won’t interfere unless he turns aggressive.” 

Lucifer nodded. He expected something like that to happen. 

“One of his hands will be uncuffed since his right shoulder is destroyed currently,” she added. “Good shot, by the way. So he wouldn’t make any sudden moves. Not unless he wants to be dropped on his face. Oh, and don’t mention Dean. Dean caught new charges.” 

Lucifer blinked. He hadn’t heard that. “Oh?” 

“Assault of a law enforcement officer and arson resulting in grievous bodily harm,” Sterling explained as her fiance fell into step beside her. “He lit a guard on fire. Second degree burns.” 

Lucifer winced. “I take it he’s in solitary?” 

“Both of them are,” Sterling confirmed. She opened the room with her key, where Sam, Lafitte, and Murderson were. “Thank you, gentlemen,” she said. “You may leave. Fitz and I can take it from here.” 

“You sure there, Silver?” Lafitte asked in his low, slow and Cajun drawl. “I’d hate to see ya get hurt.” 

“Especially since you got sprayed the other day,” Murderson added. 

Sterling rolled her eyes. “Not my fault that Davies got me instead of that idiot,” she said. “I think my six is covered and if he starts, I’ll call for assistance and I’ll drop his ass.” 

They laughed and the two large, hulking men passed by the two smaller officers. Lafitte patted Sterling’s shoulder as they left. Lucifer took his seat, pulled out his notebook and pen, and proceeded to study Sam. He looked better than Lucifer felt, if one disregarded the sling. 

“Hello, Sam,” Lucifer said. “I believe that you have a story for me.” He ignored the fact that Sterling and Fitzgerald were standing not that far behind Sam. He almost felt safer with them there. If they were there, Sam wouldn’t dare bring up the dreadful orgasm. 

Sam smiled and shifted a little. “It’s a sad one,” he said. “By the way, beautiful shot. Made me wish that we could’ve done it together.”

Heat flooded Lucifer’s face, catching the thinly veiled innuendo. “I’m sure,” he said as professionally as he possibly could. “Now, talk to me. How did Jessica Moore die?” 

“As I’m sure you’ve profiled by now,” Sam began. “I am a BDSM practitioner and identify as a Dom.” 

_ No, really?  _ Lucifer thought dryly as Sterling snorted indelicately. 

“I also get off on choking people,” Sam continued. “It’s like… a drug for me. Just feeling the pulse underneath my fingertips, rabbiting as if to say,  _ please, choke me. _ Jess… she loved being choked. Absolutely loved it. We always tried to do it safely. Safe words, nonverbals, never letting her pass out from that, aftercare to help prevent the onset of drop… I was the textbook example of a good Dom. And she… she was gorgeous, when she would go under. Flushed skin, eyes closed, breathy whimpers of my name before I cut off her oxygen, loud shuddering gasps when I let her breathe again…” his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Lucifer grimaced. 

“Focus, Sam,” he commanded gently, but firmly. “How did she die?” 

“It was an accident,” Sam said. “We were in the middle of a scene. I was fucking her, had my hand around her neck. I squeezed just a little too hard, held her breath a little too long. Suddenly, she turned her head quickly and her neck snapped. It just… snapped.” He twisted his head, an audible crack echoing throughout the room. He then shook his head and shuddered. Lucifer couldn’t tell if it was from revulsion or from pleasure. “I never meant to kill her,” he said quietly. “It just… happened.” 

Lucifer nodded and made a few quiet notes while Sam hung his head in a mimicry of shame. Sterling and Fitzgerald stood stoically by. “So, she struggled?” he asked. 

“I guess,” Sam sighed. “God, why didn’t she give her nonverbal if she couldn’t handle it?” 

“I’m not sure, Sam,” Lucifer said quietly. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” 

Lucifer was fairly certain that Sam wasn’t remorseful. A remorseful man would’ve confessed, maybe done a little time, admitted it was an accident from the outset. He wouldn’t have hid the body, dumping it like trash with his best friend and eventual lover, forgetting she existed. 

“I believe that you have a story for me, now,” Sam said softly. 

Lucifer sighed heavily. In his questionable post-orgasmic bliss, waiting for backup to arrive, he had promised Sam he’d tell him about Jack Kline. He’d regretted that promise ever since, but a promise was a promise. Lucifer Alighieri wasn’t in the habit of breaking promises. Not now, not ever. 

He inhaled, exhaled, and began. 

“We got a call - the Crimes Against Children Unit - talking about children who were being kidnapped, and then sold in the Fairfax, Virginia area,” he started off. “We were each assigned a child to find. Jack Kline was mine. His mother, Kelly, a single mom, had reported him missing when he didn’t come home from school three days prior to us picking up the case. I talked to everyone who had even said ‘hi’ to him. I retraced his steps, tried to think like the kidnappers. He was an older kid, about thirteen or fourteen, so preferential offenders, hebephiles most likely. We had paired up with the BAU and I… I threw myself into the case. I spent long hours sitting with Kelly, talking with her, getting to know Jack as best as I could without  _ knowing  _ Jack. I prayed every night that I would find him and bring him home alive.” 

He sighed, looking at a point beyond the trio in front of him. “We got a tip as to where the most recent children who had been kidnapped were located - Jack included - from a confidential informant. We set up to raid immediately, because the next day, they were being auctioned off. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t lose Jack.” He pulled out his wallet and brought up a picture of Jack in an X-Wing fighter pilot’s uniform and smiled. “I felt like he was my son, in many ways. We went in. We found the children.” 

He inhaled and exhaled roughly, shivering as he remembered the scene in front of him. “All of the children were dead or dying. Every single one of them. So was everyone else. They didn’t want to be caught, nor did they want to give up their prizes. So they killed themselves and the children. They had all taken knives and stabbed the children. Then they took cyanide capsules, because, well… death is better than being incarcerated for harming children.” 

Sam’s face showed no emotion and Lucifer sighed. “Jack was clinging to life,” he said quietly. “I called for the EMTs, told Jack he’d be all right. That I’d bring him home. He clung to life for three days before his organ systems failed. He had been stabbed about five times and it nicked several organs. I held his hand as he died, his mother on the other side. He was in a coma before Kelly made the decision to cut off life support. She thanked me, but… I couldn’t do it. Every case I took on at the CACU, I treated every child I was entrusted to find as my own, but Jack Kline wormed his way into my heart and stayed there.” Lucifer took a deep breath to settle himself. “The next week I was applying for the profiling courses and became a member of the BAU a month later. We deal with children, of course, but it’s not as often.”

He could tell it deeply affected Sterling and Fitzgerald, from the way Fitzgerald leaned over and patted Sterling’s shoulder and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead briefly. 

“That’s a very sad story,” Sam said. “I’m sorry.” 

Lucifer highly doubted that. “Thank you,” he said quietly, feeling drained. 

“It’s time,” Fitzgerald said. 

Lucifer stood up and allowed himself to be escorted out. He was going to the nearest bar. It was very unnerving, but Lucifer wondered what it felt like to not feel. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another meeting with the BAU

“So glad to see that you’re healing well, sport,” Gadreel said with a slap to Lucifer’s back. 

“Thanks, Gad,” Lucifer said before Michael cleared his throat to start the meeting. Everyone fell silent and looked towards him. 

“Let’s discuss Sam Winchester’s attack on Lucifer Alighieri,” he announced. 

“It seems reckless, even for him,” Balthazar mused. “Surely, he would’ve known the consequences?” 

“He seemed more focused on getting answers from me,” Lucifer said. “He wanted to see if I was a predator just like him.” 

Lilith snorted. 

“So he wanted to see what box you fit into in his mind,” she said. “Essentially,” Lucifer nodded. “And to get confirmation that I was really a predator.” 

“You’re one of the best shots here,” Gadreel smirked. “Had he done his homework, you wouldn’t have blown his shoulder out. From the looks of your apartment, it looks like the two of you had quite the scuffle before that, though.” 

Lucifer nodded in agreement and sighed heavily. “Well, I wasn’t going to go down easy,” he said “And I wasn’t going to let him get the best of me if I could help it.” 

Michael nodded. “Tell us what he said concerning the death of Jessica Moore,” he said. 

Lucifer rolled out his neck, cracking it. “He said that they were in a D/s scene involving choking, which they both liked and enjoyed. Apparently they had taken the normal safety precautions,” he said. “And that night, he went a little too far and she struggled and accidentally snapped her neck.” 

A heavy silence followed as everyone digested the information he gave. 

“How did he act?” Balthazar asked after a time. 

Lucifer sighed. “A very bad imitation of remorse,” he said. “Which is weird, because he even said once before that he doesn’t feel remorse concerning her death.” 

Balthazar nodded and Gadreel gave a low whistle. 

“So,” Gadreel said, “maybe it’s not what we originally thought.” 

“How do you mean?” Charlie asked. 

“Last meeting we had, I said that it was probably a turn off and a trigger for Sam that his victims say that they can’t handle what he gives them,” Gadreel explained. “But maybe it’s them  _ not  _ admitting that it’s too much that’s the trigger.” 

“He did ask why she didn’t safeword,” Lucifer added. 

“So in his mind, only the weak don’t admit that they need help or a break,” Balthazar mused. “In his worldview, at least.” 

“Which was then solidified when Tyson Brady said he was going to the police to confess to being an accessory after the fact,” Lilith summarized. 

“And by kill number three, he had gotten a taste for murder,” Michael finished. 

“He’s a complicated little bastard,” Balthazar said. “How did he respond to Jack?” 

Lucifer sighed. “Not at all surprised, I don’t think,” he said. “He seemed sad that Jack was a victim, but… not really.” 

“Mimicry,” Gadreel mused. He gave a small smile. “That was the case we met you on.” 

Lucifer nodded and gave a small smile back. “And I’m thankful to be here now,” he said softly. “So, what kind of serial killer is Sam?” 

“I’m not sure, he’s not a sexual offender,” Lilith mused. 

“Sociopath is probably the simplest,” Balthazar replied. “He’s completely devoid of empathy.”

Lucifer nodded in agreement. “I wouldn’t say that he’s a narcissist,” he added, “but perhaps borderline personality.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement at that, Michael nodding a few seconds longer than anyone else. “Thank you, Lucifer,” he said. “You’ve done good work and it’s almost done.” 

Lucifer nodded. “Thank you, Milt,” he said, sighing. He had a month left. Maybe when he stopped seeing Sam on a day to day basis, he’d stop having wet dreams about a serial killer choking him until he orgasmed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer cannot sleep

Lucifer groaned as he flipped over from his right side to his left side, as if he was trying to get comfortable. But lack of comfort wasn’t the cause of his sleepless nights as of late. 

Thoughts of Sam Winchester flowed through his brain like sugar plum fairies, and nothing Lucifer did at night would purge him of these thoughts, not even sleeping on the couch with the idea of if he didn’t sleep where he had been fucked, he could sleep. 

If he was honest with himself, Sam terrified him. He always looked so sweet and innocent, very much like a baby Rottweiler. 

A feral baby Rottie is what he was, though. 

Lucifer had seen many faces of evil in his career as an FBI agent, and especially as a member of the BAU. He had been terrified before by an unsub as well, although those were typically more of a “will I make it out alive?” moments and not so much what was going through Lucifer’s brain right now. 

Lucifer Alighieri was falling in love, or perhaps it was in lust, with Sam Winchester.

He’s not even sure why, beyond the fact that Sam was an attractive man and that they had sexual chemistry together. 

He figured that maybe that was why - their sexual chemistry. Because, holy  _ fuck _ , the sex that he had had with Sam was electrifying and terrifying and yet, he found himself craving more, wanting more of it, wanting to know if Sam would push him beyond his limits, make him put up new limits, make him build his tolerance to things. 

He came every night, calling out for the killer as he spilled into condom after condom. He’d choke himself to get off, but his own hand didn’t have the weight and the power of Sam’s hand, nor the sheer size. 

And every night, he’d toss and turn and sleep fitfully over the fact that he wanted to be with a serial killer, and that he’d do many things to have him as his own. Maybe not break him out of prison level, but the level of helping him hide for a few days, have a few days of crazy, wild, sex, and then turn him in.

Hell, where did  _ those  _ thoughts come from? Perhaps he needed to see a therapist. Michael was probably going to order him to one, especially after the apartment fiasco. 

Or maybe Lucifer just needed to stop seeing him, which would happen soon. The custodials were almost up; they only had a week left. Five more interviews, and he could put Sam Winchester out of his mind and on the back burner. 

And get laid. That was  _ definitely  _ on the agenda. He’s sure he can ask Balthazar if he knows of any single young gay guys who would want to fuck an FBI agent. Or maybe he could get in on the biggest open secret of the BAU - that Balthazar and Section Chief Fergus Crowley were together and always accepting other bedfellows. He’s sure  _ that  _ would be an interesting night if he had gone over. 

He looked over at his clock.  **2:35** glared at him in an admonishing red and he sighed deeply, curling up tighter in his bed. 

“Three hours is better than nothing,” he said out loud before he closed his eyes and fell into an uneasy sleep. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Sam's last meeting

Lucifer straightened his legal pad and looked at Sam as he clicked his favorite pen. 

It was their last meeting, and while Lucifer felt relieved by the idea, he was also feeling a bit sad about the whole affair. He knew that he shouldn’t, but it’s not like anyone’s perfect. He was sad to be leaving Sam due to the fact that he had grown attracted to him, but that was also why he was relieved. 

“It’s our last meeting, Sam,” Lucifer said. 

“It is,” Sam agreed a little absently. He shifted, then settled. “My shoulder is feeling better.” 

“Good,” Lucifer said. It looked better, and it was feeling better enough that Sam could move it and be wholly cuffed. “No lasting damage?” 

Sam shrugged. “I don’t think so, not that that matters when you’re going to be in prison for the rest of your life,” he said.

“I suppose,” Lucifer hummed. Sam had gotten sentenced just two days prior, earning life in prison without the possibility of parole, to be served concurrently with fifteen years combined for the prison escape, breaking and entering, and the two counts of assault. Sam had been remarkably quiet that day, not that Lucifer could blame him.

“What would you like to talk about today, Sam?” Lucifer asked. 

Sam looked at Lucifer. “You,” he said simply. 

“What about me?” Lucifer replied. 

Sam cracked his neck. “Would you mind talking about the night I broke into your house?” 

“Apartment,” Lucifer corrected, praying that Sam didn’t bring up the  _ very  _ consensual sex that they had. Or maybe he should’ve labeled it as a business transaction. That’s all it was to Sam, after all. 

Sam nodded. “You didn’t seem all that surprised that I broke in - or really, that anyone broke in. Why is that?” 

Lucifer gave a wry smile. “Sadly, it’s a common occurrence,” he explained. “As it for being you, well,” he shrugged. “It didn’t surprise me that if you got free, you’d come find me. I know you well enough.” 

“You were hot,” Sam said. “Every inch an FBI agent, even clad in only boxers. And the ease in which you handled your gun?” He licked his lips. “Fuckin’ sexy. It belongs in your hands.” He paused. “It wasn’t your service weapon, was it?” 

Lucifer smiled. “No,” he agreed. “I use a Bodyguard .380 for work. It goes into my gunsafe at home. My personal sidearm is a Glock 19 .9 mil.” 

Sam made a ‘not bad’ face and nodded. “You seem to be more comfortable with the Bodyguard, although I haven’t seen you handle the Glock,” he said. 

Lucifer shrugged. “I’m a gunhand,” he said. “I can shoot almost any gun with fair to excellent accuracy. And I enjoy guns. The fact that my job requires me to handle a firearm is just a bonus for me.”

“Don’t like getting up close and personal?” Sam asked with a smirk. 

Lucifer arched a brow and returned the smirk. “I prefer range attacks over melee,” he said. “Less unpredictability that way.” 

Sam nodded, smiling at the metaphor. “You’re fuckin’ hot when you’re up close, though,” he said. “Dripping in sweat, bleeding, determination in your eyes…” He closed his eyes and leaned back, clearly enjoying the memory of Lucifer beating the shit out of him. 

“Focus, Sam,” Lucifer commanded. “Anything else?” 

“When you worked with the Crimes Against Children Unit,” Sam said, jerking out of his reverie and talking as if he wasn’t mentally getting off to a roughed up Lucifer, “there must’ve been several cases that were like Jack’s. So why did that one affect you so much?” 

Lucifer exhaled a hard breath. Of course they were going to talk about Jack. He ran a hand over his face as he collected his thoughts. 

“Each case is unique,” he said, “And I typically wasn’t on cases like Jack’s. I was usually in the chatrooms, fishing, pretending to be an unsupervised pre-pubescent boy. I saved so many kids that way, and while it was mentally exhausting, it was also very rewarding. I had helped out on several cases like Jack’s, of course, but Jack’s case…” he sighed heavily. “It broke my heart. I held him in my arms and told him he was being saved. I prayed for those three days while he clung to life in the ICU. I held his mother as she made the difficult decision to turn off life support, so he didn’t have to suffer.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Of course, she and I knew that even if he survived his wounds that eventually took his life, he’d be suffering mentally from everything he had endured, and those demons are harder to deal with.” He looked right at Sam. “Some cases break you. They break your spirit, they break your heart. And that’s what Jack’s case did to me. I spent a solid six months on that case, and for it to end in tragedy like it did... I wasn’t the only one who transferred out or quit the Bureau entirely. I wish we had gotten there sooner. Or something. A different outcome.”

Sam nodded. “You feel so many different emotions,” he said. “Doesn’t that exhaust you?” 

Lucifer nodded. “Being human is exhausting,” he said. “Hell, life itself is exhausting. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” 

Sam cocked his head to the side curiously. “Why not?” 

Lucifer smiled. “Because feeling emotions is how I experience the world,” he said, “And I want to experience it all.” 

“But why? Do you enjoy feeling pain? Sadness? Sorrow? Guilt?” Sam asked. “Life is a lot less complicated without those emotions.”

“But it’s meaningless then,” Lucifer explained. “Because without those emotions, I wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate love, joy, excitement. If all I felt were positive emotions,” he spread his hands expansively, “then how can I not take them for granted? Without the sourness in our lives, we can’t fully appreciate the sweetness.” 

Sam mulled this over in his mind while Lucifer wrote down a few notes about their discussion. 

“So you feel and you don’t mind it,” Sam mused. “Interesting.” 

Lucifer nodded and gave a shrug. “What do you feel, Sam?” he asked. 

“Horniness,” Sam replied. “Gratification.” He thought for a moment. “Pride. Anger. Joy, but I think that our definitions of joy are different.” 

Lucifer nodded, writing it all down. “Anything else?” 

Sam shrugged. “Maybe regret?” he hazarded. “But that’s pretty much it.” 

“That’s time,” Murderson announced suddenly. 

Lucifer packed up his things and stood up. He shook Murderson’s and Lafitte’s hands before shaking Sam’s. “Thank you, Sam,” he said. 

“Thank you, Lucifer,” Sam said. “It’s always a pleasure being with another predator.” 

Lucifer grimaced. “I’m not a predator,” he said firmly. 

Sam smirked and shrugged. “Whatever you say, Lucifer,” he said. 

Lucifer turned and headed out once the door opened. He needed a few beers. 

It was over. After he finished up his reports, Lucifer could close the Sam Winchester chapter of his life, hopefully for good, so he could maybe get a good night’s rest, a good lay, and try to move on from doe eyed serial killers who just so happen to be sex gods. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam reappears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More jail slang!
> 
> To hang it up- to commit suicide

Lucifer took a long drink from his glass of wine as he stared at the blinking cursor in front of him. He set his wine down and pulled his laptop closer, beginning to type. 

_ Samuel Winchester knows and understands that his youth and physical attractiveness will get him many of the things that he wants, and he abuses that relentlessly. Whether it’s sex, murder, or even just a place to sleep, he uses his knowledge of how to use kind-hearted people to do what he wants, and to get what he wants. His older brother, Dean Winchester, who is currently serving several sentences at Lewisburg Penitentiary, stated in an interview that he goes for how people think and react, but that Samuel goes for how people feel and their emotions.  _

That section finished, he clicked onto the next section, titled  **SEXUALITY** , and sighed. Of course this section would be next. 

Lucifer took another long drink of wine. Two weeks had passed and while Lucifer was now sleeping a little better, there wasn’t a moment where he didn’t think about Sam. He figured it was due to him finishing up the reports. 

He just sighed and settled in to write. 

_ Samuel Winchester is a bisexual man who has had multiple partners, stating that he has had sexual relations with 150 people.  _

_ Oh God, I’m really just a notch in this man’s belt,  _ Lucifer groaned in thought. He looked at his wine glass. It was almost empty. He decided he would try to get through this section before he got more wine. He hoped that he could last that long. 

_ Samuel Winchester is a practitioner of the Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, and Masochism (BDSM) lifestyle and self-identifies as a Dominant and a Top. His primary fetish is breathplay. This fetish is a part of his signature as a serial killer, both in the sexual manner and as a method of murder. This earned him the nickname of “The Love Strangler” by the media, despite Special Agent Lilith Storm’s attempts to stop that.  _

_ Samuel Winchester enjoys consensual sex and will not initiate unless the other person is willing. However, he is an excellent manipulator and can easily charm his way to sex if his partner  _ du jour  _ is reluctant. He states that, prior to the alleged accidental death of Jessica Moore, he was following the rules and used to have safe words and nonverbal cues for his scenes as well as providing aftercare for his submissives post-scene. There is no evidence that he has continued these practices after the death of Jessica Moore. It is also unclear and there is no evidence indicating that Samuel Winchester understands the psychological and emotional impact of aftercare, or if he even cares about that.  _

_ Samuel Winchester does not seem to have a preference for age (providing that the partner is over the age of eighteen), race, gender, or sexual orientation, going after both men and women equally.  _

Lucifer drained his wine glass and stretched. He looked at the time on his watch.  **0042** blinked dully at him and he sighed. It was time to call it a night. 

Then, he heard a crash from the kitchen. 

_ Goddammit _ . He looked down at the grey FBI Academy sweats that he was wearing before shoving his laptop to the side.  _ Punk ass kids, _ he thought as he leaned over and retrieved his gun from the end table. He checked to make sure it was loaded.  _ This is the last straw. Tomorrow, I start looking for a new place to live. _

He got up and began inching towards the kitchen, his weapon raised as he checked the hallway and cleared it. He then snuck into the kitchen. 

“Hello, Lucifer,” Sam said. He was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a dirty white T-shirt. He was also remarkably calm about Lucifer pointing a gun at him (again). Just like he was the last time. Lucifer moved closer and observed that there were slight red marks around the serial killer’s neck. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, having seen what happened before and knowing what Sam did. 

“You pretended to hang it up, didn’t you?” he asked, not lowering his gun. 

“Well, yes,” Sam said without shame. “It was either fake a suicide or fake something that could’ve landed me in the hospital. Don’t worry, I didn’t kill anyone escaping. Sterling got the worst injuries, though. For such a small little thing, she’s got some major big dick energy. Nor does she give up willingly. Little fuckin’ scrapper.” 

Lucifer snorted. “It’s the little ones you always have to watch out for,” he said. “You do realize that the entire jail wants your head mounted on a pike now, right?” 

“I know,” Sam said with a shrug. “But they can’t contain me. I’ve proven that. And I’ve got more things that I want to do.” His eyes glittered darkly. “Like you.” 

“You want to fuck me again?” Lucifer asked incredulously. “Breaking into my apartment to fuck me once wasn’t enough?” 

Sam smiled as he shook his head. “Oh no,” he said. “I want to take you again, and this time, feel you grow tight around my cock as you shake and tremble and fall apart. You are beautiful when you cum, and you deprived me of the full experience the last time.” He smirked. “Then again, I did deprive you of the experience of having me fill you up to the brim and leaking as I came inside you. I haven’t come in my pants like I did when you shot me and roughly cuffed me up since I was a teenager.” 

Lucifer gave a full bodied shiver, his cock betraying him and hardening in his sweats. He was tempted to give that to Sam, Lord was he tempted. “I shouldn’t,” he said. 

“What’s the risk this time?” Sam coaxed. “The custodials are done. We’re just now two consenting adults.”

“It’s not that simple,” Lucifer said. 

“It can be, if you’d let it. Anything can be that simple,” Sam replied calmly. Almost serenely. “You have the tendency to overthink things. Complicate them. You said yourself that you experience the world through your emotions and feelings, right?” 

Lucifer nodded, wondering where Sam was going with this.

“Then you should let yourself feel and experience this,” Sam said simply. “At the very least, give yourself something that  _ you  _ want. Be selfish. Let yourself be taken and truly go through an experience where you do something for  _ you. _ ” He continued to make his case. “You’re a grown man, Lucifer. Take care of  _ your  _ needs and allow yourself to just  _ have  _ and  _ want  _ without guilt.” He looked into Lucifer’s soul, or so it felt. “I know you’re a man who does things after thinking them through. I want you to just  _ do.  _ To just take what  _ you  _ want.” 

_ Dean goes for the mind. Sam goes for the heart.  _

And yet, Lucifer still needed pieces of the puzzle concerning the serial killer in order to solve it. Things that wouldn’t make any official report. Perhaps that is why he set his gun down and strode further into the kitchen. He heaved Sam out of the chair that he was in and crashed their lips together. 

Besides, he could always blame this on the wine. He had four glasses prior to this, after all. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More sex, and a revelation

Lucifer’s back arched against the wall of his hallway, knocking a picture of him at his FBI Academy graduation askew as Sam devoured his mouth hungrily. He found purchase in chestnut curls and gave a firm yank, drawing a moan from the serial killer. Sam’s response was to give a firm grind against Lucifer, making him gasp. 

“So responsive,” Sam purred. “You’re just… so responsive. To my touch, to my voice.” He cupped the side of Lucifer’s face as he spoke. Lucifer leaned into the tender touch with a sigh and Sam gave a soft smile. Lucifer wondered briefly if he was seeing Sam before Jessica’s death, but he shoved that thought out of his mind. That could be a question for later. 

“Let’s take this to your bed, Lucifer,” Sam murmured. He slid his hand down to the side of Lucifer’s neck and grasped it firmly, his thumb brushing up against the FBI agent’s Adam’s apple. Lucifer felt his pulse jump and he whined. 

“Yeah, let’s,” he agreed breathlessly. They made their way into the bedroom, kissing and groping each other. Lucifer was never so glad for his ‘minimal clothes at home’ policy more so than now, since it enabled him to be naked the moment that his back hit the bed. He stared up at Sam with wide eyes. He pushed himself up, only for Sam to push him back down onto the bed, grasping his wrists and pinning them. 

“Be a good little butterfly, and stay there,” Sam purred deeply. “I hope that you’re ready for me.” 

Lucifer lifted his head up in a challenging tone. “I was ready for you the last time,” he reminded Sam. 

The taller man chuckled roughly. “That you were, little butterfly,” he said. “And you took me and what I gave you so well.” 

A flush spread across Lucifer’s face at the unexpected praise and he smiled. “Thank you,” he said. 

Sam leaned over him and traced his fingers lightly over Lucifer’s neck. Without thinking, Lucifer tilted his head back. 

“You have such a lovely, beautiful throat,” he whispered softly. “I’ve been fantasizing about this throat since we first met.” 

“Oh?” Lucifer whispered softly. 

“Mhm,” Sam hummed. “It’s a shame that you have to keep it covered up. As hot as you are in a suit, I think that I rather like the outfits that you wear at home more.” 

Lucifer snorted and stretched. Sam’s hand felt  _ perfect  _ on his throat and he felt himself relax. Sam noticed, and he smiled darkly. 

“Do we like that, little butterfly?” he murmured gently. “Like me telling you that you’re pretty like this, with your neck in my hand?” 

Lucifer nodded, giving a soft whine as the pressure on his neck eased up. 

“Use your words,” Sam murmured. 

“Yes,” Lucifer breathed. 

“There we go, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Sam smiled. 

The glorious pressure returned and Lucifer moaned, arching his back into it. 

“We really do like this, don’t we?” Sam hummed. “You’re beautiful like this.”

Lucifer groaned at the words, closing his eyes in pleasure. 

“That’s it, relax for me,” Sam commanded. “You’re so tense, my little butterfly. I just want you to feel. To experience this in the way you experience the world best, the way you want to experience the world. Just feel.” 

Lucifer groaned and stretched underneath of Sam’s approving gaze. He moaned as the pressure on his throat increased. 

“Don’t think, just feel,” Sam hummed. “Just feel me, little butterfly, and everything I’m giving you.” 

Lucifer did what Sam told him to do, his breathing slowing as he just sank into the pleasure that Sam was bestowing upon him. 

“So good, little butterfly,” Sam murmured. He slowly removed his hand from Lucifer’s throat, shushing the FBI agent when Lucifer let loose a high pitched whine. 

“It’s okay, little butterfly,” the serial killer whispered. “It’s easier to open you up with two hands instead of one, and I want you nice and open for me. Is that alright?” 

Lucifer took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah,” he replied in a whisper. 

“Good,” Sam smirked now. “No condoms.” 

Lucifer gazed up at Sam in wide-eyed shock. 

“We’re both clean,” Sam pointed out. “And I have the feeling that you’ve never had a sloppy hole before.” 

Lucifer flushed a brilliant red and nodded shyly. He’s never had that because, in all honesty, he’s never seen the appeal of it. 

Sam grinned darkly. “It’ll be a night of firsts, then,” he said. Getting up, he walked over to Lucifer’s dresser to retrieve the lube. On the way back, the serial killer shed his own sweatpants, allowing his own cock to be freed. 

Lucifer was now nearly drooling at the sight of the large, thick dick in front of him and before he could stop himself, he said, “I want to choke on your cock.” 

Sam chuckled as the bright flush on Lucifer’s face darkened and he smirked. “Another time, perhaps,” he said, and Lucifer’s heart raced at the sound of the implied third visit. “Spread your legs for me, little butterfly,” he cooed. “Let’s see that pretty little hole.” 

Lucifer spread his legs, hooking his arms under his knees and Sam groaned. He squirted some lube onto his fingers and smeared it around on his fingers, warming it up a little. 

Lucifer watched with bated breath as Sam warmed up the lube. He tried not to squirm, tried not to seem too eager. He had always prided himself on not being too eager, on not seeming easy or wanton, but Sam seemed to delight in making him break. And so, without his brain’s permission, he began to shift his hips and gave a low groan of pleasure as he watched. He even tried to spread his legs even wider. 

“So eager for me, little butterfly?” Sam chuckled, amused and aroused all at the same time. Lucifer blushed and the serial killer smirked before pressing two fingers into the agent’s furled hole. “Can’t keep you waiting too much,” he whispered. “Not when it’s clear that it’s been too long for you. It’s okay to act like an eager slut every so often. You deserve it.” 

Lucifer’s answer was a low moan as those long, clever fingers pressed into him and spread open, filling him wholly and yet not enough at the same time. He rocked back onto Sam’s digits, his cock bouncing against his stomach. 

“That’s it, just feel,” Sam murmured. “So good for me. Just stay nice and relaxed for me, and concentrate on what you’re feeling.” 

Lucifer did just that, and the last brain cell chanting  _ this is wrong, call the warden or Michael or someone _ died as Sam’s fingers located his prostate and pressed down on it firmly. He cried out, his back arching. 

“There we go,” Sam said in satisfaction as he continued to rub Lucifer’s prostate. “Not a thought left, hmmm?” 

Lucifer couldn’t give a verbal answer that was coherent, so he just gave an affirmative mewl as Sam continued to apply that wonderful pressure. 

“Think you’re ready for my cock, my little butterfly?” Sam purred. “I know I’ve only done two fingers, but you took me so wonderfully the last time with none.” 

“Yes!” Lucifer cried out. He wanted - no, he  _ needed  _ the burn in a way he had never needed it before.

“So good for me,” Sam crooned. “Oh so very good for me.” 

Slowly, teasingly, Sam acted like his fingers were pulling out, only to put them back in. He continued this until Lucifer shouted “PLEASE!” loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Then, and only then, did Sam pull his fingers out and maneuvered himself to hover over Lucifer. 

The FBI agent bit his lip and watched Sam pour some more lube onto his hand and gave his formidable cock a few strokes. He wondered how he managed to take the serial killer with such minimal prep the last time ( _ adrenaline was your best friend then,  _ his brain helpfully said, temporarily back online,  _ and you were limping for three days. It’s a wonder that Michael didn’t put two and two together _ ). 

“What are you thinking about, little butterfly?” Sam murmured softly. 

Lucifer looked up into the eyes that had captivated him from day one. How could such a violent man have such kind eyes? “Just wondering how I managed to take you the last time,” he said. 

Sam chuckled. “When the body is willing,” he said, “It can do some amazing things.” He ran his free hand up Lucifer’s thigh. “What did I tell you about thinking tonight, little butterfly?” 

“Not to,” Lucifer huffed. “Which is much like reminding Congress that they work for the people and not for their sponsors.” 

Sam tilted his head back and laughed. It was low and rough, promising danger and sex, and it went straight to Lucifer’s cock. 

“You have such a delightful mind, my little butterfly,” he said. “And I love it.” He smirked as he dug his blunt nails into Lucifer’s thigh, making the agent moan. “It seems, however, that the only way to get your pretty little head to relax is to stuff your hole full.” 

“Oh,” Lucifer whispered, flushing as he felt the hand leave his thigh and settled on his hip. 

“Mhmm,” Sam hummed. He stopped stroking his cock and poised it at Lucifer’s hole. “Ready?” 

Lucifer nodded, taking a deep breath. He meant to exhale slowly as Sam pushed in, but all of his breath was punched out of him as Sam pressed in instead. The burn was glorious, and he let out a loud cry of pleasure. 

“I think someone might be a little bit of a pain slut,” Sam murmured. 

Lucifer had never before considered  _ that  _ possibility, but he didn’t have the time or the brain cells to figure that out. Not with Sam’s cock slowly -  _ too slowly,  _ he thought - yet surely pressing into him.

Lucifer gasped, then moaned loudly. This was like losing his virginity all over again, but better without the latex barrier that he’d insisted on. He could feel every ridge of Sam’s cock, feel him splitting him open almost exactly the same way as before. It almost felt dirty, oh so dirty, and Lucifer begged him for more.

“Doesn’t this feel better?” Sam whispered as he finally bottomed out inside of Lucifer. “Just pure, wholesome feeling. Just my cock and your hole Meeting as one, without boundaries. Just as nature intended.” 

Lucifer could offer Sam nothing coherent, just a garbled moan of pleasure. 

“Good, I have you beyond words,” Sam smirked. “Let’s see if I can get you beyond sound as well.” And with that, he withdrew almost all the way before slamming back into Lucifer. The FBI agent didn’t have any time to recover before the serial killer repeated the motion. 

Sam fucked Lucifer in such a way that he knew he wouldn’t be walking straight the next day. It was hard, fast, and brutal. Sam’s hand found Lucifer’s throat and rested it there, as if he was waiting for permission. Lucifer gave his consent in the form of a high pitched mewl that he would deny ever came out of his throat, and the hand pressed down firmly, cutting off his air supply.

Lucifer felt like he was floating. His back arched and he clung to the pillows underneath of his head as he surrendered himself to the passion and bliss that was unfettered by logic and reasoning. 

In spurts, Sam’s hand would release Lucifer’s throat and he gasped and whined as he attempted to catch his breath before Sam would cut it off again, his hand steady despite the rapid rate of their coupling.

Sam didn’t talk; there was no need for him to do so. He let his actions do the talking, and what they were saying rang clear as a bell:  _ MINE. _

Lucifer came first, with Sam cutting off his air and his cock pressing against Lucifer’s prostate insistently. He could only vaguely hear Sam swear as darkened galaxies encompassed his vision. He’s fairly certain that he blacked out, and the only thing that made him come to his senses was Sam cumming deep inside of him mere moments later. Heat flooded throughout Lucifer and he whined softly as Sam filled him up in a whole new way. 

“See how amazing that was?” Sam hummed softly as he exhaled a kiss onto Lucifer’s forehead. 

“Yeah,” Lucifer replied breathlessly as he gave a smile. 

Sam returned the smile. He gently took Lucifer’s chin and lifted it, visually examining his throat. “You’re so fair,” he murmured. “Your neck is bruising.” 

Lucifer sighed and shrugged. “Oh well,” he whispered. 

Sam smiled a little more and withdrew from Lucifer. Lucifer moaned as Sam’s release oozed out of him. Sam gazed at Lucifer’s fucked out form hungrily before leaving to get a washcloth. When he returned, he cleaned Lucifer up silently before laying down next to him, curling into his side in an imitation of a cuddle. Lucifer wrapped his arms around him and the two of them basked in the afterglow.

After a time, Sam looked up at Lucifer and gave him a small smile. “Lucifer?” 

“Hmm?” Lucifer hummed, turning to look down at Sam. 

“Run away with me?” Sam asked softly. Almost sweetly. 

Lucifer remained quiet for a few moments. Could he be the companion of a serial killer? Become a fugitive himself? Give up everything he knew and loved in order to perhaps one day be a victim himself? 

He then reminded himself of his task, of his purpose. To solve the puzzle that was Samuel Winchester. There were still so many pieces left to find and he knew that if he went with him, he’d find them and solve the puzzle. Lucifer Alighieri never left a puzzle unsolved. And he wasn't going to begin bad habits now. 

“Yes. I will.” 

  
_ Love. The reason I dislike that word is that means too much for me, far more than you can understand.  _ **Anna Karenina** ** _, Leo Tolstoy_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Twitter: @Alendra_Dragon
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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